


In Times of Crisis

by NeoSoul



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Bulimia, Drama, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Romance, Self-Harm, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 45,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoSoul/pseuds/NeoSoul
Summary: "Some people lose their appetite, but me, it increases tenfold"Jughead Jones is bulimicHe knows it could kill himBut he can't stop





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An exploration of a headcannon I've had  
> (also another story on mental health, what's new)

He knew that this could kill him; it was terribly obvious The effects had already seemed to find him. No one knew, and he had to keep this to himself. It brought too much sick comfort to his life to even consider getting better. He feared that if anyone were to find out, it would just become more problematic than it already was. It seemed things like this always did, once other people are involved, everything fell to pieces. He looked up from the sink, his hands still shaking. He’d done this far too often now, it was only just a habit, a routine. The lights seemed dimmer than normal it seemed, his reflection looked more like a ghost than his own. It frightened him for just a second, before he went back to washing himself up. The discomfort he had felt earlier had finally disappeared, which was a miracle it seemed. His head was still pounding, but that never seemed to go away. He looked up again, hoping no one would notice the way his appearance differed from earlier. They couldn't find out, and this was a dead giveaway.  
He sighed. If he would spend more time in here worrying, then they'd suspect even more. He left the bathroom and headed back to the cafeteria. He could feel his heart pounding. He wasn't sure why, well he knew, but he didn't like to admit it. He wasn't keen on admitting how much damage he had done. He watches the expressions of the others as he sits. Mainly to see if they would show immediate signs of suspicion.  
There were none.  
He took a deep breath. It seemed everything was still normal. He went back to writing the article he was hoping to publish. The one on Hiram Lodge and his plan. It was all that he could think about.  
“Hey Jughead, you've been so wrapped in your computer. What's so important?” He heard Archie ask. He gave a side eye to Betty, who shook her head; a notice that he should not speak the full truth.  
“Just something; as usual.” He told Archie, who shrugged it off. Everything was normal. No one even suspected anything. He was playing it well.  
Everything seemed to be ok...until he fell asleep in English. Something he never did, ever. It wasn't even long, but after he had snapped awake, he could feel Betty’s eyes on him. There were probably more, but he couldn't care less about them. He felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. He buried himself in his laptop for the rest of the period, hoping no one saw. Once the period ended he felt those same eyes on him, as Betty walked over.  
“Everything alright? I've never seen you fall asleep like that.” She asked. He shrugged it off, hoping she wouldn't take a second glance.  
“Yeah. It's just been a bit stressful at home with all that's going on.” He reassured her, knowing damn well it was a lie. Lying to Betty seemed both normal and wrong at the same time.  
“If you ever need anything. I'm here.” She told him. He smiled and hoped the subject would change as they walked out of the school. He hated sympathy, especially from those closest to him. It just felt he deserved none of it, he had done such horrible things. The most recent was Penny, and the fiasco that destroyed him, yet saved him at the same time. He knew he could never punish himself enough for it. It seemed after that night his cuts grew deeper and he spent far more time over a toilet bowl.  
He went home, which, to no surprise, was empty again. His dad was out working most likely, which was definitely far better than it used to be. It meant he was left on his own for the night.  
That was dangerous.  
There seemed to be a storm beginning to brew, and it didn’t help the mood of the place. Especially when the sky began to darken at four. There was a pang in his stomach. It wasn’t painful, at least not terribly. He had no clue what it was from. He had his suspicions. He knew it could either be from the stress of the Black Hood and the Lodge takeover, or it was from the constant binging and purging. The effects of both seemed to merge anyway.  
He wasn’t entirely sure whether he wanted to do it again, as it had only been a few hours since the last one, but the urge was going again. It seemed neverending.  
He sat for a bit, contemplating if it was at all worth doing again. The cleanup took a bit, especially at home, as he had to take extra care to make sure his dad wouldn’t find out. It would absolutely be a nightmare if he did. Luckily, FP would be out for quite some time that night. Which meant that he could probably do it again without the chance of getting caught.  
And he did.  
There wasn’t much in the house-foodwise, but it was enough for these sessions. He didn’t care what he ate, not at all. He only needed the numb feeling that came with the food, then the odd high feeling of relief after it all came back up.  
He was addicted, and it seemed to be destroying him.  
He scoured for anything he could find in the trailer, well, anything that wouldn’t cause any suspicion from him dad. He went to write while it all happened. To make it seem less insane to him, because he knew this entire thing was crazy. Who would ever do such a thing, eat and puke all the damn time.  
It was a shitty way to cope with himself, he knew that.  
The calm before the storm. That’s what the binge was. It calmed him down, before all the pain came up again, leaving him terribly empty. He knew this never solved anything, and no matter how many times he would do it; it would never change. He was just addicted to the feelings that came with it.  
Yet it was rotting him from the inside out.  
He looked towards all the empty wrappers laid out on a side table in the tiny living room. They reminded him of what had just happened, as he tended to blank out during most sessions of binging. It was always the same, a way to take the pain away, and once reality hit, he realized he had to get it out. He made his way into the bathroom and locked the door just in case. When he had just started doing it, he would get nervous before purging. Now it was just a second nature, as if he was on autopilot. He put the toilet seat up and leaned over the bowl. He shoved his fingers in his throat and puked. Some of it came up, but not all. It never did the first time. He knew he could just force the rest out using his hands and stomach muscles. It seemed that came with time. As terrible as it was, he found it useful. It lessened the bruising on his knuckles, which were a dead giveaway.  
He puked again.  
Getting the rest of it out was easy. Two more times. His heart still racing, his body shaking. This feeling was all too familiar. He hated it. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. He wanted out, but the comfort it gave was far too much to even try.  
He was trapped.  
It took his entire strength to get up off of the bathroom floor. He reeked of vomit, and it was only getting worse. He shakily opened the window, hoping it would air out the room before his dad would get home. He had a long list of excuses just in case someone would ever catch on, but it was easier to just deny it. The smell of vomit seemed to linger, which meant it was on him again. He sighed and stripped to shower. His body was a wreck. He caught sight of it in the mirror by the sink. His skin was white, ghostly. The cuts on his stomach, his legs and shoulders were healing terribly, almost never healing at all. He would open them up whenever he was particularly numb. The same areas, he never let them heal.  
He finished his shower and the smell of puke left the room. He sighed in pure relief as the evidence had diminished. He flushed the toilet, re-wrapped his knuckles, and rinsed his mouth.  
No one could tell, as long as they didn't read between the lines.


	2. Giveaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead is still a mess

Waking up was something Jughead wasn’t amazing at, especially after a night of purging. His chest was heavy, his hands were absolutely freezing, and his head ached. It wasn’t usual anyway, he awoke like this most mornings. It seemed to worsen as the whole binging and purging continued. He rubbed his face in an attempt to wake up enough for school. His entire body felt heavy, as if a weight lay on his body. He could tell this was taking a toll on him. He sat up. The sun was blinding as it shone through the window. Unpleasant. He began to attempt to stand, which was a fight most mornings.  
His body seemed to be breaking.  
He got up and began to walk to get breakfast, until he realized he was still only in his boxers. It would’ve ended in disaster if his dad saw him like this; every cut exposed. He put on the same pair of pants he seemed to always wear, and one of the same few shirts he owned. This covered the cuts on most parts of his body, with only a few that were scattered, but they were easy to explain. He took a breath and walked to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat, but it seemed to be the only option. His dad would immediately suspect something was up if he wouldn’t.  
It was the curse of being the boy who always seems to eat. He had to keep up the facade.   
His dad was just watching something when he walked in, a usual morning. He tried to sneak through, but his attempt was quickly foiled when his legs gave out, and he almost slipped. The sound seemed to snap his dad’s attention towards him.  
“You ok Jug?” He asked. Jughead nodded and got back up.  
“Yeah, I’m good.” He said. He went to make himself a bowl of completely dry cereal, just as usual. The cereal was the one thing that stayed down. It was probably the reason that he felt like absolute garbage most of the time. He never actually ate anything of substantial nutrition.  
He knew he looked dead.  
He sat down to eat the cereal, well, mainly just sit and stare at it, but also eat a few handfuls. The cereal was terribly dry, as expected. It didn’t make him gag at least.   
He wanted to purge the few handfuls, terribly.  
He had to rush to school, as the time had grown late; so he put on the same jacket he always wore. The same flannel around his waist. They were all to hide the things he hated, the flannel for his body, hoping no one would notice if his weight fluctuated, as it does. His jacket for his arms, just in case the shirt would slip and reveal any of the scars or the open wounds. He sometimes hated how even in the hot weather he had to wear sleeves. The fact that he did it to himself made it worse.  
He cursed himself daily for ever taking a blade to himself.  
When he got to school, things were rocky, like usual. He was shoved between people, but he didn’t care. It was the usual fare. He met with Archie and Betty in the student lounge. He couldn’t find Veronica or Kevin, but that seemed usual. Everyone was always busy with something. He sat next to Betty.  
“You look like death Jug.” She observed. He jumped slightly at this statement, terrified that she was onto him.  
“This whole Black Hood thing’s got me going crazy.” He told her, hoping it would cover anything suspicious. It seemed it was convincing enough. She nodded in agreement.  
“It’s been the same for me, I haven’t had many full nights of sleep.” She told him. He looked down. His knuckles met his eyes. The little bruises and teeth marks were fully visible to his eye. He quickly pulled his hand back into his sleeve, hoping to hide it before anyone noticed. The conversation went on for a bit before class began and Jughead went back to the grind of school. It was nothing compared to the events of the past few weeks, but he knew the reason it absolutely took everything out of him was because of the fact that he was starving, which he found odd as it seemed he was always eating something.   
But it never stayed down, well unless he literally felt as if he would drop dead.  
He tended to purge in the school bathrooms, almost everyday at least. It was just a habit. He already could get away with binging at lunch, everyone assumed he just ate everything. It was a trademark he was cursed with. He did just as usual today, getting as much as possible. He sat down and immediately got some remarks, but nothing that could rat him out.  
“Damn Jug.” He heard Veronica say, but ignored it, knowing it was just her trying to make some funny remark, probably for Archie, even though they were broken up, just as he was with Betty.   
“What?” He said, defensively. She shrugged and he noticed how red her cheeks became. He then went back to consuming what his stomach could handle, he attempted to be discreet with his emotions. He hated it, every time he did it. It was as if he couldn’t even stop.   
Even if he tried, it seemed he was addicted.  
It was done, the binge, he had done it again. He dreaded the next part. He excused himself from the table and swiftly went into one of the bathrooms that seemed to never be occupied. He went into the furthest stall, hoping that there would be no sound heard from the other side of the door. He put the toilet seat up and leaned over. His index finger jammed into his throat until he puked. He could feel something scratch his throat, and he suspected his nail cut his throat again.   
It meant he’d be spitting blood for a solid day.  
He then pressed on his stomach to get the rest of it out, making sure nothing remained. Once the puke ran liquid, he knew it all was out. Relief washed over him and he flushed the toilet. It reeked quite a bit, but he just held his breath until he got to the sink, so he could wash his mouth out. His knuckles were white again, terribly cold as well. The red marks were far more visible than usual. If anyone walked in, he’d be caught red-handed.  
Literally.  
He rinsed the puke from his mouth and held the sink basin tightly, hoping to regain his full balance. His head began pounding. He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror again. It was just as white as his knuckles, with the exception of the bags under his eyes. They were darker than ever, especially as his sleep habits got worse. He began to make his way to the door as it opened, scaring him. He looked up and was met with Archie’s eyes. His heart rate began to quicken its’ pace.  
“What’re you doing in this particular bathroom?” He asked Archie. He tried to quickly cover his knuckles, and it seemed to work. Archie didn’t notice.  
“It’s the only one that stays clean.” Archie explained. Jughead couldn’t argue, as that was very true. It was the only bathroom without at least one shitstain somewhere on the wall.  
“Can’t argue you on that.” He told Archie and tried to leave before any more exchange would happen, but with Archie, that never happened. He watched Archie stop and turn back to him, causing his heart to race faster.  
“You look worse than this morning. You ok?” he asked. Jughead nodded quickly, desperately hoping he wouldn’t blow his cover.  
“Yeah, it’s just the lighting.” Jughead told him, and left the bathroom. He sighed when he did, as the relief washed over him.  
No one knew.  
He sat back in the cafeteria, next to Betty, when he had another coughing fit. It was nothing out of the ordinary, it came with smoking. He put his hand to his mouth to cover the cough, out of courtesy. He felt something wet in his hand, and he looked down. More blood. It was something he was used to. It wasn’t the first time he had scratched his throat. It was Betty who noticed it, but he wiped it on his pants before anyone could notice, and he left swiftly, after grabbing his stuff.  
It was suspicious, probably, but he just needed out. Explaining the blood would give it away.


	3. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FP finds blood on Jughead's jacket

It had grown late as he biked home after working on the case with Betty. The sky seemed to darken far earlier than it used to at the beginning of the school year. The dark seemed to comfort him. He walked into his trailer and was surprised to see his dad home. He was usually out until late. It meant that Jughead could not purge, at least not at home. He knew that once his mind had settled on the idea, it would happen.  
But he had no urge, at least not right now.  
The only thing on his mind was the Black Hood. It seemed he was impossible to catch, even with everyone on his trail. He noticed the distance, especially when he had come back to Riverdale High. He wasn’t particularly liked in the first place, but being a Serpent made him just that much less likeable to most.  
It made hiding what he did far too easy.  
He walked past his dad, hoping no exchange of words would take place. His throat did still ache from the little wound his nail had created earlier. He quickly did sneak into the bedroom. There seemed an odd numbness that he felt, something he had felt many times before. It was an emptiness, especially now that he was broken up. She had never helped fill the void anyway, but it seemed worse now. Something was different, and he didn’t know what it was. He wanted to rid of the numb feeling.  
The only way to do that was pain.  
The blades were all hidden in one of his old shoes, in between the sole. His father would never find them there, even if he was looking for them. He took off his multitudes of sleeves and sat in a corner, hoping it would hide home enough. He began to drag the blade across his shoulder, just above the hem of the sleeve. He had thought about his wrists and if it was worth the feeling. Hiding them seemed to be a nightmare. Hence the reason he would cut on his shoulder, stomach, and legs instead. The pain felt just as expected. Relieving. He could feel the numb feeling leave. Sure he wasn't in a better mindset after this, but it was only a quick fix. It took a solid minute before the cuts began to bleed, but once they did, it seemed never ending. He could hear his dad on the phone, so he decided it was better to put the blade away again, and clean himself up. Blood was staining his sleeve, so he put a jacket on over his shirt. The blood that stained his hands would easily come out, so he walked to the bathroom and washed the blood. It was quite a bit compared to what he usually observed.  
He heard footsteps coming straight towards the bathroom.  
His heart began to beat faster. If his dad noticed the blood, then it would be over. He'd know. He had gotten the noticeable blood off, and all that stayed were the teeth marks on his knuckles. He sighed and fixed his hair, hoping nothing would be suspicious. He heard a knock on the door.  
“Hey, Betty just called, something about the Black Hood.” He told Jughead, who was now able to calm himself.  
“Tell her to meet me at Pop’s then.” He told his dad, and walked back to the bedroom and put on his Serpent jacket, just as usual. He took his bag, which contained pretty much his entire life, and took his bike over to Pop’s. He walked in to find Betty already there, so he sat down across from her.  
“What'd you find?” He asked.  
“I just have a hunch that Sheriff Keller is the Black Hood.” She told him. He grew confused. That was the last person he would ever accuse.  
“What brings you to such a conclusion?” He asked her. She shrugged.  
“I mean, Kevin told me about him sneaking out at night.” She told him.  
“Dude’s under a lot of stress. He could just be blowing off steam or something.” He told her. She sighed.  
“Veronica thinks he's having an affair.” Betty told him. He could see that for sure. It seemed far more obvious than him being a viscous killer.  
“That's far more of reasonable assumption.” He told her. She looked down.  
“Now we’re back to only being at two leads.” She told him.  
“Who?” He asked.  
“Hiram and a Blossom.” She said. He agreed and then ordered something. He had fought himself about it, but finally his disorder won. It wouldn't stay down either. He wanted to forgive Betty for what she did, especially after the way she told him what had happened, but he didn't want to date her again. He had realized that she wasn't the one. They were better as friends, especially since he realized he had odd feelings for Archie. Right now he didn't, and he wouldn't until Archie would stop sucking up to Hiram, but he would forgive and forget if Archie would ever pull back from the dark side, as he called it.  
“How's it been, with your dad back?” Betty asked him. He shrugged as he bit into the burger.  
“Surprisingly calm. He's actually not too bad at being a dad.” He told her. The dread began to fill in his throat. He could feel the scratch again. He was sure puking would open it again.  
“That's amazing. Look I gotta go before my parents destroy me, I'll see you tomorrow.” She said, and he finished up the food. He trudged to the bathroom and locked another stall. It was easy to hide in Pop’s, unless his dad was working. He quickly shoved his fingers into his throat again and puked most everything out. The bit that was left, he couldn't care to get out now. It wasn't enough to try. He swiftly left the bathroom, got on his bike and went home.  
It was all too familiar.  
He walked inside again and his dad was just sitting again, probably watching something. It was usual. He snuck past him, hoping no suspicion was raised, and he almost made it.  
“Why was there blood on one of your flannels?” He asked. Jughead stopped in his tracks. His heart rate picked up immensely.  
“Which one?” He asked. He watched his dad lift it from his side. It was the one he had worn to hide the cuts while he cleaned. His eyes widened as he grasped for an excuse.  
“The one you left on the floor, before you left.” He said. His voice was stern.  
“It was from a fight I had, at Southside High.” He explained, knowing it was a lie. His hands were shaking, and he feared his knuckles were white again.  
“In neat lines? On your shoulder?” He said. Jughead swallowed, his lies were seen right through. His dad knew.  
“I put it on afterward.” He said, trying to defend his lie. FP was having none of it. His eyes told Jughead that he knew, at least about the cuts.  
“Don't lie to me boy, I'm not oblivious.” He told Jughead, both angry and terribly sad.  
Defeated, Jughead sat, hoping to explain himself. The conversation was not going to be easy, but as long as the binging and purging remained hidden, it would be ok. He hoped so.  
“If this what I think it is, then...why?” He asked. Jughead didn't know how to answer. It seemed he forgot why he had started. It had become his way of dealing with the numbness.  
“I...I'm not sure.” He said. FP almost slammed his fists on the table by the couch, but resisted. The topic on hand was not one to grow frustrated about.  
“You damn well do boy. No one does this without a reason.” He told Jughead, who was still terrified.  
“It's just a way to cope. When your dad used to spend his time spiraling, then in jail. Well I had to cope somehow. It became a habit. I can't stop.” He told FP. His voice wavered as he spoke. He had never been in such a vulnerable state, especially not in front of his dad. It was such an odd turn. He had provided for the two of them for so long, he was the strong one, but now it had changed, and he was the one vulnerable.  
“Why didn't you tell me?” He asked. Jughead sighed.  
“If I had told you when it started, it would've left you in a far worse state.” He told FP. He noticed how the look of frustration turned to both regret and sadness. He couldn't say much; he just took Jughead into his arms and hugged him tightly.  
“I'm here for you now,” He said and Jughead noticed a tear fall down his cheek. He then swiftly looked Jughead in the eyes. “Did you at least clean the cuts?” He asked. Jughead shook his head, as he had very little knowledge on cleaning wounds. FP got up and Jughead followed him to the bathroom. At this point his knuckles were easily excusable for a fight. He didn't care too much about them.  
“Sorry...for this dad.” He told FP, who shook his head.  
“Take off your jacket.” He said and Jughead was hesitant, but what was there to hide. He took it off and it dropped to the floor. He watched his dad take a sharp breath as Jughead rolled up the sleeves of the shirt.  
“Again. I'm sorry.” He apologized, but FP seemed to not care, he just cleaned and wrapped the wounds.  
“If you do it again. Please, just let me know so we can clean it. Infections are nasty.” He told Jughead.  
“Ok.” Jughead swallowed. His heart had calmed down a bit. He had no clue what else to say, but he just stood still.  
He couldn’t comprehend what had happened.  
He thought it would’ve gone far worse.


	4. Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destruction and banter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some massive writer's block with this one, sorry if it's kinda bad

The events of that Tuesday night kept going through Jughead’s mind all throughout the week. He made sure to rid of any evidence of purging at home, and school now to. If any of his friends would find anything, it’d be game over, especially if Betty or Archie found him. It did surprise him that there was no mention of stopping from his dad. Every story he’d read online ended in someone begging the person doing whatever to stop, but real life is different.  
There would be no hero, only himself.  
He was startled awake by what seemed to be nothing. It wasn’t unusual at all, since he wasn’t the greatest sleeper. He went to check the time, hoping it wasn’t terribly early.  
10:54 am.  
He sighed of relief at the fact that it wasn’t ungodly early, because he knew that if it was, well, he’d be puking before noon. It didn’t help that Pop’s was open for 24 hours. He noticed the odd feeling the bandages caused, and he was surprised they were still on, but his dad insisted they stay until at least next week, and they were supposed to be changed eventually. He wasn’t sure they would be, unless he did it himself. It seemed to be that way. He had always fended for himself. He went and got dressed in the same thing he usually did. It seemed the garments were looser than they used to be. It meant he had fluctuated downward significantly. It was to be expected though, as he kept nothing but miniscule handfuls of dry cereal down.   
He feared that someone would notice.  
It seemed the day was like most weekends, sleuthing around, trying to take down the entire Lodge plan as well as the Black Hood. He had nothing in particular planned yet, just that he would meet with Betty. He was trying to avoid Archie and Veronica, as it destroyed him to watch them fall into Hiram’s games. He was just awaiting them on the other side. It created an all-to-real hole in his heart, especially with what was happening to his own Serpents. Thinking about it even upon waking fired up the urge to just waste the day, binging and purging. Luckily enough, he got a call from Betty.  
“Pop’s, now.” She told him swiftly. He went to brush his teeth, which were probably rotting anyway, and then grabbed a handful of cereal. It was already too late. If his dad was at Pop’s, then ordering anything would be risky. He biked over and went to meet Betty. The first thing he seemed to notice was in fact his dad, which made his heart lurch.   
Sneaking wasn’t the easiest thing, but he’d done this before with his dad at home.  
Then he noticed the sporadic panic Betty seemed to be in. He sat down across from her and grabbed her arms in an attempt to calm her down.  
“What’s got you so riled up?” He asked, and watched as she pulled out some large files.  
“Connway, Svenson. It all seems to make sense. He survived the attack. It’s gotta be him.” She blubbered on. He tried to make sense of it, but it all came too fast for his brain, which was still waking up.  
“Ok, calm down. Speak a bit slower, I just woke up.” He told her, so she took a deep breath and spoke again of everything she had figured out. He found none of it as shocking as Betty had. Nothing seemed to entice emotions in other ways either. He was just numb, and at this point and place. He knew he would probably be puking before noon, again. He ordered a solid amount of food and kept talking with Betty, both about her and the case.  
He hoped it would keep him from thinking too much about it.  
There was this odd feeling of guilt that washed over him, not because of the food, but because of the odd encounter with his dad. He felt he should’ve told him everything then and there.  
No  
He couldn’t. It would just destroy his only way to cope  
He finished his food, and excused himself from the booth. His stomach seemed to know what was about to happen, and had already begun the process of bringing it all up. He wasn’t sure if he could keep anything down without feeling sick now. It wasn’t ideal at all, knowing that if this continued, he’d grow too thin for it to be looked over, but all he could still eat and keep down was dry cereal.  
It really was a predicament.  
The bathrooms were clean, not amazingly clean, but clean. It made a difference in how efficient he was when puking, the cleaner the better. The coast seemed clear, so he locked himself in the furthest stall. The light kept quivering, on and off again, he found it quite annoying, but carried on. He leaned over the toilet bowl and it seemed the puke was practically in his throat, he pushed on his stomach and it all seemed to come out, all too easy.  
A habit, it was only a habit.  
He went to wash his mouth out, hoping the water would be bearable, as it tended to not be. The mirror that lay upon the wall, just above the sink, it proved all the fears that he had. His teeth had grown yellow, absolutely terribly yellow. They were eroding right in front of him, and he couldn’t stop it. The medical bills would be expensive, especially as they continue to rot. His face wasn’t much better, he was still paler than a ghost, with those awfully dark circles he’d grown to hate. The new development was the hollowness of his cheekbones, they gave it away, and it seemed so obvious.  
He walked back out to Betty, hoping she wouldn’t ask about the extended amount of time he had spent “pissing”, as he had told her. His dad walked past him, and his gaze seemed to remain on Jughead for a second too long. Jughead turned quickly, hoping that his dad didn’t see anything.  
It’d be the longest night of his life, if his dad did.  
He finished up with Betty at Pop’s and then he left to find the others, hoping to pass on the information. He wanted to hang with just Archie, but with him being so involved with the Lodges made it difficult, especially with Jughead being a Serpent.  
He wasn’t giving up, as they had been as close as any two people could be since they were young.  
He walked back into the door of the trailer, disappointed at the encounter he had earlier. The same information kept passing itself around, and no one seemed to get anywhere. He hoped he could make it past his dad without another long encounter. He managed for a bit, getting into the bedroom and setting up shop on his laptop.  
Until there was a knock on the door.  
He groaned, it was either important or something to do with what he was doing. His heart began to beat again, terrified that his dad had seen him earlier, puking.  
“Come in.” He said, and the door opened. His dad walked a bit closer, and he was carrying the roll of bandages.  
“I promised I’d change them.” He told Jughead, and sat beside him on the bed. Jughead put his laptop to the side and stripped to his shirt, so his dad could access the bandages. They weren’t the cleanest anymore. He watched as they came off, and the dried blood had become brown. He noticed the timid touch as his dad went and changed the bandages, as if they were almost forbidden. Jughead hated this, the sympathy, but it was better than it used to be, when he was alone, destroying himself.


	5. Close Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effects begin to catch up

It had snowed in Riverdale, and surprisingly earlier than it usually would. Jughead wasn’t sure whether he wanted it yet. It meant that the entire town was preparing for christmas, and this time only a few weeks early, instead of already starting mid-October.   
Even when everything else seemed to be crumbling.  
Surprisingly enough his skin had become only scars after that one Tuesday. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear of anyone else finding out, or he had just not found himself terribly numb in the past week, which could be the case, but it was highly unlikely, as he was still puking just as much as usual.  
Still, he was surprised by the fact that no one suspected anything.  
It was another Tuesday, about two weeks after the encounter with his dad. There wasn’t too much tension between them, a feeling that he hadn’t had since before Jellybean and his mom left. The sinking feeling that seemed to weigh on his chest was the fact that this wouldn’t last, it never did.  
He would just fall down, even further than he already had.  
The loud beeping of his alarm awoke him suddenly. The pounding in his head had started again. He went to silence his phone, and then he fought to get up, while still half asleep. He pulled the same pair of pants he had worn all last week, and one of the few shirts he owned over his body, as well as some denim jacket from the collection he owned. He noticed that it all seemed to fit even looser than it had been, and it terrified him to think that any of this seemed noticeable to the outside. He went to eat the same dry cereal he always seemed to do, and his dad was finishing up his own breakfast, probably before going to Pop’s. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and poured the same cereal he always seemed to and just ate handfuls. He wasn’t sure how he was even still alive, especially as he knew that he had been consuming pretty much only cereal for a solid few months now, before that he was eating almost normally, with the exception of binging and purging every couple days, but now, it seemed daily, or even twice a day. He had fallen down, and it seemed to be a realization every time his head hung over the toilet bowl again, or even dumpsters, if he was desperate enough.  
He sometimes wished he would’ve said something.  
He biked to school again, as it was his only means of transportation, even in the cold. He didn’t mind the cold very much, as it was better than the heat, which was most definitely harder to exist in, especially when he had to cover up either his body or his scars. Sweating wasn’t the most comfortable thing. He made it to school in time, and hurried to get to his classes. He promised his dad and himself that he would make it out of high school with solid grades, and so far, it was happening, but he wasn’t sure if it’d last. The school seemed somber, the atmosphere at least. It was always somewhat somber after Jason had die, but now that the Black Hood was still at large, it grew worse. He noticed the way that Betty seemed distant, even though they had met just a couple days ago, Archie was falling deeper in kahoots with the Lodges, and Veronica was already in deep. He only had the serpents at this point, and half of them didn’t really like him anyway.  
He was left alone.  
He sat in the student lounge, wondering if he wanted to eat anything now and risk being caught in the school bathroom by a janitor, or if he would wait until he could do the usual routine at lunch of eat everything and puke it up again. He tried to be smart with the risk and reward, and at this point, the risk was too great, so he decided it would be better to wait. It would be a painful few hours of that numb feeling, but the release would be worth the wait. The bell rang and signified first period was to begin, so everyone scrambled to get to their classes.  
The morning would be painful.  
It passed slowly, but lunch came around eventually and he did what he would usually do. No one even seemed to question it. The walk to the bathroom was usual, and it was empty as always. He went and locked the last stall door, just as he usually would do. It seemed colder than it used to be, but that was expected. He leaned over the bowl and it seemed with no effort, the food came up, and almost all of it. His body had grown so accustomed to the routine, that nothing seemed to matter. He shoved his fingers into his throat one more time and made sure it all got up, and then quickly flushed the toilet, just in case he would have another run-in with Archie, who seemed to be using the same bathroom now. It wasn’t a lie that it was the only one without shitstains, but still, he hated that little risk.  
Luckily he wasn’t terrible at lying.  
Jughead went to wash his mouth of the bitter taste, and then after he had finished, he noticed the weird way his teeth seemed to have eroded from the back, not a lot, but it was now noticeable. This was destroying even his teeth now, and he couldn’t stop. He noticed the door began to open, so he quickly closed his mouth, after observing. It was, lo and behold, Archie Andrews. There was something about him, something Jughead couldn’t wrap his head around. He was very much attractive, but that was to be expected. No, it was something in Jughead’s mind about him.  
He couldn’t find words to describe it, so he let it go.  
The walk back to the cafeteria was rough. He noticed an odd tingling in his right hand, it was small, but definitely something he knew he shouldn’t ignore. He knew about the entire process of puking and potassium, so he hoped some form of tomato would fix it. He got one from the lunch line and ate it. Sure enough, the tingling went away, and his heart stopped jumping as much as it had been. He realized that he had to at least consume something in between these sessions. He wasn’t trying to lose weight anyway, so why was he so scared. It bothered him constantly, the way he feared keeping food down.   
He didn’t want this to kill him.  
After school he spent some time working on the article for the Blue and Gold with Betty, the one about the Black Hood. They had to add the Riverdale Reaper into the story. He knew it wasn’t his best work, but it seemed to get the story thoroughly told, up until the point they were at. He still had some holes, especially as to who it was, and why he would do such a thing. He hoped those holes would be filled before school let out for winter break in a few weeks. He wanted christmas to not be filled with dread of who was next.   
He sat by the window, moping again, as he had finished what he could, but there was no urge to go back home. There was a part of him that wanted someone to know, someone to care, but he couldn’t bring himself to even admit anything out loud.  
Let alone tell someone else, especially his dad, that he had an eating disorder.  
He assumed it was one at least. No sane person would constantly eat and puke. It wasn’t a casual everyday thing, except in Ancient Rome, but there was no room for history in this world anymore.  
He was sick, that was clear, but he didn’t want to get better.  
“Jug, are you ok?” Betty asked him, noticing the odd silence in the room. He looked over, snapped from his thoughts.  
“Yeah, sorry. This whole case has got my head in knots, especially with my dad out, and everything that’s happened.” He explained, hoping she wouldn’t investigate further. She didn’t. Her only response was a quick and a quite awkward hug, as they were broken up. No need to make things more awkward.  
“If you need someone, I’m always here for you.” She told him, and his lips cracked a smile, a painful smile. The skin around his lips were dry, terribly so, and it was his own fault. Living on handfuls of cereal doesn’t do magic for the skin. It was, again, his habits’ fault.  
“Thanks Betty.” He told her. She gave him a smile, it seemed a pity smile, but he wasn’t sure. He decided that it was better to leave before things got worse. He packed up his stuff and left to go back to the trailer.   
He feared Betty was on to him.  
The trailer was empty, as expected. His dad usually spent the entire day working as of now.  
Jughead was alone, and that always seemed dangerous.


	6. Speculations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a lil banter  
> also a bit of Juggie and Archie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more writer's block, so sorry if it's kinda odd

Jughead walked through the trailer door after unlocking it. It was eerily empty, but it always seemed to be when no one was home. He wasn’t sure that being alone would be a good idea, especially in such a state. He didn’t want anyone to have to worry, but he knew he might need someone.  
His head seemed to be collapsing.  
He spent some time just writing again. It was just a distraction of what was inevitably to come. The time did pass and he heard his dad walk in. The odd eeriness disappeared, and there was a knock on his door.  
“Yes.” He said and his dad opened the door. He was carrying some sort of bag. Jughead guessed it was some form of food, which was something he really wasn’t in the mood for. Especially because of the fact that his dad was there, and if he went and puked, well, he’d know.  
“You hungry?” His dad asked him. He looked up from his laptop. He hated that question everytime it was asked. What was he to say? Yes? If he did it would just lead to puking, but if he said no, he’d be lying.  
He was always hungry, as his body couldn’t run on nothing forever.  
He wasn’t sure if he was willing to risk a complete breakdown over keeping food down, or getting caught while puking it all up. It was a lose/lose situation if he said yes.  
“I’m ok, but thanks.” He told his dad, but it seemed his dad wasn’t having it. He insisted, and with a bit of banter, Jughead was at the table, looking at the food in front of him. His stomach churned, almost as if it knew what was going to happen. He put a couple things on a plate. He wasn’t sure what would happen. He ate most of it, hoping it wouldn’t cause too much panic, pain, and whatever else came with keeping food down, at least anything that wasn’t dry cereal. He hated the feeling, keeping it down.  
His body didn’t seem to take kindly to the food either.  
He panicked completely and excused himself from the table. His dad grew confused, he could see that.  
“Jug, what happened?” He asked, but Jughead couldn’t hear him through the static in his head. He cursed himself for thinking he could eat at all right now. He ran back to the bedroom, leaving his dad with the plate of half eaten chinese food. He paced the room, wall to wall, trying to figure out how to rid the feeling.  
He would destroy himself if he let it sit.  
He understood that the right thing would be to tell his dad, obviously, but that would wreak havoc. He had to find some other way.  
It was either outside, or to find an excuse to go to Pop’s.  
Archie, maybe that was his excuse. He could spill some feelings as well, or just have an excuse to binge more and puke it all up again. He texted Archie, hoping that maybe he’d be down for a late night at Pop’s. He heard his phone buzz and saw that Archie agreed. He put on his leather jacket and ran out the door, leaving his dad in the dust again.  
Archie was already there when Jughead had arrived. Jughead sat opposite of Archie, and sighed.  
“Sorry to drag you here at such an odd time.” He told Archie, and then ordered some food. Archie shrugged.  
“I was planning on asking the same thing, I need to talk to you.” Archie told him. Jughead had already scarfed down half of the burger when he heard that. His cheeks went slightly red, hoping it was maybe the night of Archie coming out, because he knew. There was no denying that Archie was for sure not 100% straight.  
Maybe 99%, but not 100%.  
He looked at Archie, knowing this was probably not going to be the night of his coming out. There were no signs, but it did seem important.  
“What’d you need to talk about?” Jughead asked Archie. He finished the other half of the burger and now it sat again.  
“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry, I know how much this whole thing is tearing you apart. The South Side, my affiliation with the Lodges, I’m sorry.” Archie apologized. Jughead sighed. He wasn’t sure if he could forgive Archie, but he could forgive him just enough to stay friends for now.  
“It’s ok Archie, I wasn’t terribly mad in the first place...until you picked that fight with the Serpents, but I guess I can forgive you for now.” Jughead said, and then swiftly got up. He went to the bathroom, hoping to finally get rid of the food that seemed to sit in his stomach. He locked the stall door and put the toilet seat up, just like usual, and then leaned over the bowl. He hoped that pushing on his stomach would work again, so he tried, but only wretched a few times. He gave up and used his fingers, shoved them in his throat and it all came out. It was swift.  
He had never felt as much relief as he had in this moment.  
Jughead finished up and flushed the toilet. His hands were already shaking as he opened the stall door.  
“Jughead, are you ok?” Archie asked. Jughead jumped at his voice. His heart began to race. Had Archie seen?  
“Yeah, my stomach just didn’t agree with me I guess.” Jughead lied.  
“Do you need help?” Archie asked and Jughead shook his head. He knew how to clean himself up, especially with puke. He’d been doing this for about a year, and the on and off starving and binging for a solid three. He was fascinated at the fact that he was still alive.  
“I got it, but thanks.” Jughead said, and he went to clean out his mouth. The bitter taste was still ever so present. The marks on his knuckles were still hidden underneath the sleeve of his jacket.  
“Are you going to go back home?” Archie asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“Unless you protest against it.” Jughead said, and watched as Archie shook his head.  
“Do what you need to do.” He told Jughead. There was a moment, Jughead could sleep at Archie’s for a night, get closer to him perhaps, but the risk was too great. The chances of him blowing his cover was too great.  
“I’ll just go back home.” He said, and then said a swift goodbye and left. It was abrupt, the meeting, but he was only using it as a way to puke, and Archie had caught him in the act. If he had lied well enough, then it may have turned out ok, but he wasn’t sure.  
He had to face his dad as well, after walking out as abruptly as he did.  
Jughead arrived at home, and the lights in the living room were still on, meaning his dad was awake. He took a deep breath and walked in the door.  
“Where did you run off to?” FP asked Jughead. Jughead’s heart beat faster again. He probably reeked of puke, and now his dad smelled him. This had to be the night.  
“Archie texted about something urgent, sorry for running off like that.” He said, and watched his dad’s expression.  
“Alright, but next time tell me before you go.” He said, and with that Jughead walked to the bedroom. He had hoped that his dad had caught on, so that he wouldn’t need to bring up anything.  
It seemed at this point, he did want help.  
He didn’t want to die from this, at least.  
Jughead brushed his rotting teeth and changed into the usual tank that he wore to sleep. He noticed the odd bones that seemed to pop along his neck. They had never been there before, even during low fluctuations. This seemed lower than what he usually would end up going through.  
He was losing weight far too fast, and someone was bound to find out about it.  
He got into the bed and checked his phone one last time before he went to sleep, and a text from Archie caught his eye.  
"Hey, I’m always available if you need anything",  
Either he knew, or thought something else was plaguing Jughead.  
Either way Jug accepted the gesture as just a gesture, he hated sympathy.


	7. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead comes out  
> and more

Winter break fast approached, and now they were days away. Jughead feared the break, as it meant he’d be stuck in a hellish cycle, and would probably end up far worse than he already was. In the state that he was in.   
His dad had fallen back, he had taken the deeds that Penny requested, and Jughead noticed the distance that the two kept. It was heartbreaking to him, watching his dad go right back down the path he had fought so hard to leave behind.  
It seemed that the two of them would hit rock bottom together, question was, who was first.  
Jughead headed back to the trailer, to grab some stuff before meeting with the others at Pop’s. He wasn’t sure what they needed, but Betty and Archie claimed it was important. He hoped his dad wasn’t home, as he realized that he looked even more dead than he had a week ago, which he swore was the last time his dad and him were alone at home. It would be hard to explain why he kept growing more pale by the day. That wasn’t his biggest concern, it seemed miniscule compared to the weight loss. He had promised himself that it wouldn’t get this bad, but it was an empty promise. He couldn’t control it anymore, it seemed to have a hold of him.  
His only comfort had become his worst enemy.  
The trailer was unlocked, which meant one thing, his dad was home. Jughead had to collect himself, hoping there would be only silent interaction between them. He opened the door and walked in. He hated watching his dad do this, he wanted so terribly that it would be over with, but there was no sign of stopping. They made eye contact and he noticed how terribly broken his father’s eyes seemed to be as they bestowed upon him.  
“Jughead? I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.” He said. Jughead looked around for the bag he had put the couple of newspaper clippings in.  
“Dad, why are you still doing this for her?” Jughead asked, he had tried everyday that they’d cross paths, to convince his dad to stop with it, but it seems Penny had him tied around a string. It was useless.  
“If I don’t, then we’re doomed, she’s got us trapped Jug,” His dad told him, and continued doing whatever it seemed he was doing. Jughead could feel his eyes observing him, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the fact that he lost as much weight as he did, or just because he looked as dead as he did. He almost made it out the door, until his father spoke again. “You look thin boy.” He told Jughead, and with that Jughead left, hoping it would be left at that.  
It was obvious now, he couldn’t hide it anymore.  
He met with Betty, Archie, and Veronica a bit later. They asked for the articles on the Black Hood arrest. Archie was convinced that Svenson wasn’t the guy, but everyone else seemed to believe it was. Jughead wasn’t sure yet, he was too caught up in his own world of trying to get Penny away from his dad, and making sure he wouldn’t accidentally kill himself in the bathroom at Pop’s. Betty had found him to, but he passed it off as illness, and made sure to be extra careful around her. Slowly it did become impossible to hide. He would usually fluctuate back up at this point, hitting the weight he seemed to maintain with ease, but now, well, he went far below what he had expected.  
Almost 15 pounds under the usual fluctuations, he assumed.  
“Jug, what do you think? Did we catch the right guy?” He heard Betty ask him. He shrugged, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be.  
“We’ll just have to see.” He said, and then went back to finishing the food he had ordered, which obviously wasn’t staying down. He had taken some precautions. He always had something to restore his potassium on hand now, as it seemed to be critically low. The conversation moved onto break plans, and everyone was staying in Riverdale. He couldn’t really imagine what it would be like, especially with Penny still keeping his dad on strings. He didn’t want to spend another christmas alone.   
He excused himself from the booth and quickly ran into the last stall of the bathroom, his stomach had already begun the process. He leaned over the toilet bowl and pushed slightly on his stomach. It had all come out, just like that. It had become scarily easy to puke now. He knew it shouldn’t just happen by leaning over, but it did. It was almost as bad as his teeth, which were really beginning to yellow. He noticed the back of his teeth were smaller, corroded away by stomach acid.  
If someone were to find out, the dentist bill would destroy him.  
He quickly washed his mouth out and walked back to the booth. Veronica had left, leaving only Archie, Betty, and him. A piece of the odd love triangles that seemed to exist between Veronica, Betty and Archie, as well a Archie, Betty, and him. In books the triangles were just a cover up for romance between the two who fought for the one.  
Which could be a sign that Archie and him could maybe be.  
He noticed that the other two were staring at him as he climbed over Archie. He knew it was either because they noticed the weight loss, or just the process of climbing over Archie, which was a sight to behold all on its’ own. He sat back down and waited for anyone to say anything.   
“What?” He asked. Betty looked down, it seemed she was contemplating on what to say.  
“Are things ok, with your dad?” She asked suddenly. His eyes grew wide, and he tried to ignore her eyes.  
“No, but that’s all I can say.” He said, and she gave him one of the smiles he hated, a smile of sympathy.  
“My offer stands, I’m here if you need me.” She told him, and Archie chimed in.  
“Same here.” He said, and Jughead sighed. He wanted so terribly to tell them what was going on. The drugs, how he barely spoke to his father at the moment, how he was slowly killing himself, and almost unable to stop it.  
Something was stopping him, and he didn’t know what.  
“Thanks guys, but really, I’m fine.” He lied, and they seemed to believe it, not even a question. They finished up, paid and left. Jughead left with Archie, and he hoped to stay with him, at least until he knew his dad was home again. He couldn’t stay in the trailer alone, he would just wreak havoc. The image of his dad finding him dead, leaning over a toilet was too much to bear, and if he stayed home, that’s exactly what he feared would happen.  
They arrived at Archie’s. Jughead hadn’t been there since he had stayed there those few months ago. He had seen Fred, but not in a bit either. He feared what would happen while he was there. He followed Archie to his room, as Fred wasn’t home yet.  
“What do you even want to do?” Archie asked and Jughead shrugged.  
“Not sure honestly, I just had to get away from home for a bit.” Jughead told Archie, who looked over from the seat by the TV in his room.   
“Are things bad again?” Archie asked, and Jughead quickly shook his head.  
“No, well sort of...my dad’s stuck doing Penny’s bidding, just as we had to, but she seems to keep him coming back, if he doesn’t, well, we’re screwed.” he told Archie, his voice seemed to break. He felt vulnerable in the room, the person he seemed to have a crush on just a few feet away, yet he was so sick, his cheeks couldn’t seem to blush even a slight bit.  
“Is there a way to stop her?” Archie asked, and Jughead shook his head.  
“She knows her way around, she’d get my dad thrown right back into jail if he refused.” Jughead told Archie, and he picked up the guitar on Archie’s bed. He wasn’t any good, but it was fun to just strum around on. It kept his hands busy at least.  
“We need to do something, because I can tell it’s destroying you. You’ve been looking pretty rough these past few months, but recently you’ve been looking especially dead.” Archie told him, and he looked down at his knuckles, they were in plain sight, but he didn’t care. If someone asked about them, then they’d ask, he didn’t want to die, and if he kept it quiet, then it would probably kill him. He looked up.  
“Archie...I need to tell you something.” He said, and Archie turned around.  
“Yeah, what’s up?” He asked, and Jughead took a deep breath. Was he going to do this? He wasn’t sure what was about to come out of his mouth, he had so many different thoughts swarming. Archie was definitely attractive. He was going to die. His teeth were rotting out of his head. What if his dad would end up behind jail? What if his heart gave out in his sleep? He couldn’t pinpoint a thought, but he tried. He opened his mouth and paused for a second.  
“I’m...I’m bi.” He said. Confused as to why that came out of his mouth instead of: “Help me, I’m literally unable to keep food down, and I think I’m bulimic”. It was another thing he did mean to tell Archie, but not at such a critical low point. He noticed Archie’s cheeks go red.  
“I assumed so. Me to, at least somewhat. I don’t know anymore.” Archie confessed, and that set something off in Jughead’s mind. It meant he had a chance with Archie, at least maybe.  
They were startled with a knock on the door from Fred. He looked in and saw the two, Jughead looked like he usually did, death. Archie’s face was flushed.  
“There’s dinner, if anyone’s hungry.” Fred told the two. Archie shot up, and Jughead looked down. He wasn’t sure, as if he would eat, then it would have to stay down, especially since Fred was there. With Archie he could lie again. It wouldn’t be terribly hard, but with Fred, it was harder. Especially since he had lost as much weight as he had.  
“Are you coming Jug?” Archie asked, and Jug shrugged.  
“I feel sort of sick, but I’ll join you.” He lied, and headed down with Archie. The smell of pizza wafted into his nose. He wasn’t sure if he could even be around it. It seemed he already felt sick through smell alone.  
He had really fucked himself over.  
He sat with Archie and his dad at the table. He did want a piece, but a piece would turn into six and a trip to the bathroom, which would most likely just end up terribly.  
“Jughead, are you sure you don’t want any?” Archie asked him, and he nodded. Archie shrugged it off and went back to finish the slice. Jughead felt Fred’s eyes on him. It was probably suspicion. He couldn’t hide it, and the observer had to come to the conclusion.  
Archie had finished his food, and offered the leftover to Jughead, who denied it again, knowing it would just lead to much worse. They went back upstairs.  
“So about earlier. You’re not lying right?” Jughead asked.  
“Why would I lie? Of course, I’m not like one hundred percent sure, at least not yet.” He said, and Jughead smiled. He did have a chance, a small one, but a chance.  
His phone rang abruptly. His dad was calling, and that was probably not a good thing.  
It turned out ok, it was just his dad asking where he was. It was a nice gesture; it reminded him that he wasn’t forgotten. He told him that he was over at Archie’s and reassured him that he’d be home soon.  
“Yo, I’m heading out, see you at school though.” He told Archie, and biked home.   
When he arrived, the lights were on in the trailer, and it seemed his dad was watching something again, he usually did to get his mind off of anything that needed distraction. Jughead walked in quietly, hoping not to disturb his dad. He made it to the bedroom, and laid down on the bed. He was exhausted, just as always, as if his body was barely able to function.  
On dry handfuls of cereal.  
The night was restless, he awoke six times to pee, which wasn’t uncommon. It seemed as he lost more weight, even his bladder lost strength. It was just another side effect of this whole thing. He couldn’t seem to fall back asleep after the sixth time, which was a solid half hour before he had to be awake anyway, so he snuck outside and sat on the porch of his trailer. The sun was still in the early stages of rising, and the air was frigid, but that made no difference to Jughead. He sat and just let himself take in the air, hoping it’d clear his head from the past few months, maybe even the past year.   
He just wanted a break from all the pain this thing seemed to cause.  
He heard footsteps behind him.  
“What’re you doing out here, it’s freezing.” He heard his dad say. Jughead turned a bit, so he could at least face him.  
“I couldn’t sleep.” He said. His dad sat down beside him. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, if it was an intervention for his habits, or just a bit of morning banter.  
“Look, I’m sorry if this is all too much for you. I understand how hard it is, watching your old man fall back to what he once was.” FP told Jughead. Jughead looked down, not knowing how to respond.  
“It’s not that, I’m just scared you’ll get caught.” He told his dad. FP put his arm’s on Jughead’s shoulders, hoping it would help comfort him in some way. Jughead could feel his fingers on his shoulder joints, which stuck out quite a bit. It didn’t help that he slept in only a shirt and boxers.  
His dad probably noticed how much weight he had truly lost.  
Nothing was said about it.  
“I just want you safe Jughead,” He said, and then looked down, as if forming the next sentence was difficult. “There were more bloodstains...on one of your shirts.” He said. Jughead grew quiet.  
“You seemed far too frustrated to deal with my shit, and it was just a rough day. I’m sorry.” He said.  
“I don’t care if I’m busy, you slip up and do it again, tell me. I know it’s hard to stop, but at least I can help you clean it up and maybe get those thoughts into the air.” FP told him. Jughead nodded, his eyes were near tears, but he tried as hard as he could to keep them from falling. His dad wasn’t one he wanted to show weakness to.  
“Fine, I promise.” Jughead said. They went back inside, as now his actual alarm had gone off. He went to make the same bowl of cereal, just like every other morning. He felt his dad’s eyes on him.  
Had he finally noticed the weight loss?  
“Hey, Jug, you eating ok? You definitely lost weight.” FP told him. Jughead just shrugged, he wasn’t going to say anything, not yet. He wasn’t ready.  
“I’m fine, it’s your little jobs for Penny that you should be worried about, and how to get out of them.” He said, and with that he got up and left, leaving most of the cereal in the bowl.


	8. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead is a mess

Penny Peabody had been taken care of, and Jughead couldn’t get his head around what had just happened, what he had just done. She was out of Riverdale, but the process was something he had never thought he’d ever think of doing. His head was pounding, and the whole cutting Penny’s serpent tattoo out of her skin wasn’t helping. His state of mind was in an absolute wreck.   
His entire body was shaking as he walked into Pop’s at one in the morning. It was empty, except for one person who was working. He pulled himself into one of the booths and sat for a second. Everyone else was asleep, and he didn’t want to bother anyone.   
He didn’t want to be alone.  
Alas, he got no responses, so he just ordered what he could, and scarfed it down. The feelings seemed to disappear for the shortest time, until he felt the usual nagging guilt, so, at one in the morning, he went to purge in the bathroom at Pop’s.   
He didn’t feel as terrible as he usually did after purging, but it was mainly from adrenaline and that would wear off quite soon. He washed up and walked back out, only to find Betty, Archie, and Veronica in a booth. He quickly snuck into the corner. It seemed everyone was fighting their own demons.  
“Hey, what happened?” He asked, curiously, but everyone looked just as dead as he probably did.  
“We caught the Black Hood.” Betty said, her voice terribly shaken. Archie looked just as bad.  
“And who was he?” Jughead asked.  
“Mr. Svenson apparently, but I’m not buying it. Those weren’t the same eyes of the man who shot my dad.” Archie told him.  
“It had to be him, who else would go around town parading in a Black Hood?” Jughead suggested. He was beginning to drift off, but he couldn’t face his dad yet, he had to stay somewhere again.   
“Let’s just see how this unfolds.” Betty told them, and Archie sighed.  
“I’m not giving up, not yet.” Archie told them. They spent some time discussing the matter of the Black Hood, and then they went their separate ways home. Jughead decided to go and just sneak onto the couch in the trailer. It was better than staying anywhere else.   
He snuck himself into the trailer and onto the couch, yet his dad saw, which meant he had to explain what had happened, in full.  
It didn’t go very well, just as he expected.  
The night was smooth, which was surprising.   
He awoke in the morning, and looked to see his dad in the kitchen, eating something. He sat up, his head pounding, and there was still some dried blood on his knuckles. It was christmas day, yet it felt like any other morning, except colder.  
“Do you feel any better than last night?” His dad asked him. He got up and tried to regain his balance.  
“I guess, I slept through the night.” He said and went into the bathroom. He peed and changed into something that wasn’t covered in blood and sweat. He walked back out in just a shirt and the same pair of pants.   
“Surprising, especially in the last few weeks.” FP told him as he sat down. Jughead could barely stomach anything, but he sat with his dad, as it was better than being lonely.  
“I’m sorry...for it all...again.” Jughead apologized. His dad shook his head and got up, as he had a shift at Pop’s.  
“What’s done is done, you can’t change it.” He told Jughead, and then headed out the door, leaving Jughead alone to his thoughts.  
Which was dangerous, as always.  
He sat for a bit, contemplating if he could even eat without puking, especially after last night. He was surprised his dad didn’t even suspect anything yet, except the whole weight loss thing. He knew he could go hang out with Archie, or anyone really, but he had no motivation to do so, as if last night had taken everything out of him. He only wanted to eat and puke, just as always. He didn’t want to be puking before noon again, as it just set the rest of the day up for total failure; even though it was only half an hour before noon. He decided to see if he could meet anyone at Pop’s, or anywhere really, just to get his mind away from everything for just a few hours. He asked around, hoping someone would let him hang during Christmas day, but it seemed everyone had their own agendas, as their families weren’t as terribly broken as his. He sighed, brought his laptop into the living room, and wrote. It was the only thing that took his mind off of both last night, and the burning desire to eat and puke.  
A few hours passed before that burning desire had gotten the better of him, so he shut his laptop and scoured the kitchen for food, which seemed more stocked than the last time. He brought anything he could hold into the living room with him. He assumed his dad worked late that day, as it seemed he always did. He was safe from being caught, so he opened up his laptop again and used it as a distraction while he ate. It helped his mind get off of the numbness that seemed to ensue after eating. The high feeling he felt was only there for the few seconds afterward, and then the guilt complex kicked in, leaving him terribly distraught. He shoved all the wrappers into a bag and into the trash. There was no evidence of what he had done, at least in the living room.   
He made his way into the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door, as it was only 4:30 pm and his dad usually came home at 9 or 10 pm. He opened the lid and put it up, just as he always did. His stomach was already beginning the process of bringing it all up. He stood for a second, his head still distraught over what had happened the night before, how he had done that to someone else, exactly like he would do to himself.  
He leaned over the toilet, and some of the food came out, not as much as he had expected, which meant this would be a lot harder than usual. He stood back up, regaining some balance and then shoved his fingers into his throat, hoping this would get it all out, which it got some more out, but he could tell there was too much still left. Tears began to form in his eyes out of frustration. Nothing was budging, and letting it sit made him feel far worse. He tried again, only coughing and a tiny bit of puke came up. His knuckles were raw, and it seemed they would bleed. He tried again, more aggressively, and this time it was only a wretch, as if his body lost its’ ability to puke. It wasn’t the first time this happened, but it was far more distressing now.  
He heard the trailer door open as he went in for the fourth attempt. His eyes widened, and he hoped this would work, so he could use the excuse of feeling sick. He coughed again, and puked up a bit more, not everything, but some.   
“Jughead?” He heard FP say. He hoped that his dad hadn’t heard either the coughing or the puke. The footsteps came straight to the bathroom door, and it opened before Jughead could compose himself. This was it.  
He was caught.  
“What in the name are you doing boy?” He heard his dad say, and Jughead quickly stood up, hoping the tears he had shed were dry.  
“I...I felt sick.” He told FP. A look of disbelief flashed across his face as he walked closer.  
“Don’t lie to me,” FP said, quietly, as if he had a hard time comprehending the situation. Jughead washed his mouth out, hoping to rid of the bitter taste at least, and flushed the toilet. The silence was destroying him. He couldn’t seem to find any words to say. “You did this to yourself.” FP said, and that stopped Jughead in his tracks. He looked down and noticed his knuckle bled.  
“Dad…” He said, but FP just took him by the arm and led him to the couch, where they sat. Jughead couldn’t bear to look his dad in the eyes, or even at him.  
“What did you do exactly? How long?” FP said, his voice quivering. Jughead kept his gaze to the floor.  
“A year. It’s been a year, maybe two if you count the random ones before that.” Jughead explained. FP put his hand on Jughead’s shoulder in an attempt to help calm him.   
“And what? Are you binging and purging? Just purging? What have you been doing? Why wouldn’t you say anything?” FP bombarded him with questions. Jughead sighed and looked up, not in FP’s eyes, not yet. He couldn’t face them.  
“I’m...I’m binging and purging, and to tell the truth, it’s the only comfort I have. It happened when you fell down, while I lived at the drive-in. It was supposed to just be a one time thing, but it became-” He was cut off by his dad.  
“An addiction. I know what it is, but why would you keep hiding it, and for so long. I’m surprised you’re still alive.” FP said, and Jughead looked away again. His father’s broken eyes were far too much for him.  
“You were never in a good enough place to hear it. It’s like the cutting thing, it would’ve destroyed you.” Jughead explained.  
“And you never told Archie, or Betty? No one?” FP asked, his voice now beginning to raise.  
“It would’ve ended the same way.” Jughead explained. His dad sighed and pulled Jughead closer, hoping to comfort him. Yelling wouldn’t solve this at all, he learned that from the last time.  
“This why you’ve lost all that weight?” FP asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“I never meant to, or wanted to, but I can’t seem to keep anything down.” He explained, which set FP off again.  
“Jesus boy, how many times a day you’ve been puking?” FP asked him. He shrugged.  
“Once or twice. It’s not that bad.” Jughead tried to reason, but his dad wasn’t having it.  
“Not that bad? Not that bad! You’re destroying yourself. You look dead already.” FP pointed out, and Jughead sighed. He hadn’t wanted his dad to find out in this way, but he was grateful that it wasn’t him dead in the bathroom at Pop’s.  
“I’m sorry that I can’t be the perfect kid, but life hasn’t been so perfect anyway, has it?” Jughead said, his own voice raised. FP just embraced Jughead as hard as he could without feeling he may break him.  
“Look I’m sorry. We’ll get through this together.” He said, and Jughead nodded into his shoulder, tears running down his cheeks.


	9. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FP tries to help

Jughead couldn’t shake the events of the afternoon out of his head, and ended up going to Archie’s, hoping to clear his head, also because his dad had a late shift at Pop’s again. He knew the conversation wasn’t over, and it wouldn’t be for a long time. His head was racing, as he knew that he’d have to eat, but then came the realization that it meant he had to keep food down.  
And he wasn’t sure he could still do that.  
He was upstairs with Archie, noodling with Archie’s old acoustic again, as his hands needed to stay busy, otherwise they’d pick at his knuckles.  
“You seem bothered by something.” Archie said, and Jughead looked over.  
“Stuff at home, nothing you need to worry about.” Jughead lied. He wanted Archie to know, both about the fact that he had a crush on Archie, and that he was stuck in a hellish cycle.   
“My offer stands, if you need anything, I’m here for you.” Archie told him, and he sighed. It was as if his entire world was breaking, the facade he had was cracked, and he would lose his only coping mechanism.  
“There is something...you’ll probably hate me after I tell you, but it’s important.” Jughead confessed, and Archie looked over.  
“What’s up?” He asked, and Jughead took a deep breath.  
“I like you...not as a friend, but more than that, and I know you’ll find it crazy. Especially me, and I know you’re with Veronica and all, but I just had to tell you.” Jughead said in a single breath, then he turned red and hid himself. Archie walked over to the bed and sat beside him.  
“I don’t hate you. Why would you assume that?” Archie asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“Because I’m the beaten down low-life kid at school, a serpent, and you like Veronica.” Jughead said. He found himself to be speaking as if he were in sixth grade again, unable to form sentences when he was flustered.   
“Jughead. We've been broken up for some time. You and Betty to, it's not like this is a terrible thing.” Archie told him. He sighed.   
“I just...I'm sorry.” Jughead said. His hands were shaking.  
“It’s ok, you don’t need to apologize,” Archie said, and he got up to go to the bathroom, leaving Jughead in the room, alone. “Besides, I kinda like you to, I’m not sure yet, but I think so at least.” He said, and then disappeared into the bathroom. Jughead stayed on the bed, trying to get his head to wrap around the whole situation. He feared going home, not because of his dad, but because he’d have to face himself.   
It takes far much out of him to actually fix himself, rather than break himself.  
Archie came back, and went back to playing the game as if nothing had happened. They spent a bit of the night playing together before Jughead crashed. The day had been too much for him, and crashing on Archie’s bed made things seem way better, especially since it wasn’t a couch for once.  
He awoke throughout the night, mostly to pee, as his bladder was still absolute garbage from the whole losing a lot of weight thing. Archie never stirred. Jughead noticed that he had set up camp on the floor with the same mattress that he had used when he was staying with Archie. He eventually was able to settle and slept until about nine in the morning, when Archie awoke him.  
“Yo, you’re still alive, right?” Archie said, jokingly, and Jughead groaned. The light seemed far too bright, but a lot of it was reflection from the snow.  
“Yeah, yeah. What do you need?” Jughead asked as he sat up from the bed, still in his clothes, and not even in the sheets, no wonder he had been so cold.  
“I was just wondering if you were hungry.” Archie said, and Jughead shook his head. He couldn’t. It would be too much of a scene if he ended up caught at Archie’s place.  
“I’m good, thanks though.” He said, and then got up. He stumbled a bit, as he felt dizzy, mainly from standing up too fast. It was a side effect that had come early in the downfall, so he had grown accustomed to it.  
“You sure?” Archie asked, and Jughead nodded quickly.  
“Yeah, I should be heading home anyway.” He said and went out to his bike and went back to the trailer, hoping his dad wouldn’t be home, but he also wanted him to be home. It would end badly either way.  
The trailer was open when he walked in, and his dad was at the table.  
“Where were you?” FP asked him, and he shrugged.  
“At Archie’s.” Jughead said coldly, hoping it was the only thing he would need to say.  
“Sit down boy, we need to talk, under better circumstances, and you need breakfast.” FP said, and so Jughead sat, unable to argue, after making another bowl of dry cereal. He knew there’d be more than this, but it worked for now.  
“What about?” Jughead asked him. He could tell that FP was frustrated, and it was probably about him.  
“We need to finish the conversation from earlier, about what you’re doing.” He said, and Jughead looked down, his hands playing with a single piece of cereal.   
“What else do you need to know?” Jughead asked. He finished off more of the cereal, almost completely uninterested.  
“I just need to know how I can help you, I mean, I can’t just take it away. I know that’s not how it works.” FP said, and Jughead shrugged.  
“I don’t know either, I’m just as confused as you.” Jughead said, and FP looked down. The look of defeat seemed nagging.  
“Do you promise you’ll at least keep something down? Just for now, until I figure something out.” FP asked, and Jughead nodded. He couldn’t stop, not yet, but keeping more down may be the only thing that could keep him alive.  
“I’ll try, but it seems anything I eat just comes right back out the minute I lean over.” He explained. There was another look of defeat on FP’s face.  
“It’s that bad, huh.” He asked, and Jughead nodded, tears stung his eyes.  
“I’m sorry it got so bad. I never meant for it to. I really didn’t.” Jughead rambled on.  
“Jug, it’s ok. I just need to know you’re safe.” FP said.   
“That’s easier said than done, obviously.” Jughead told him. The last bit of cereal disappeared from the bowl. Jughead felt uneasy, but maybe if he stay upright for just a bit after eating, it could work. It would hurt, surely, but it’d work.  
“If you come up with any ideas of how I could help, then please tell me. I can’t keep watching you go through this alone.” FP said, and he went to get ready for a shift at Pop’s. Jughead went to the couch where his laptop had lay, just where it was yesterday.  
“See you dad.” Jughead said as FP went out the door.   
The urge returned, and it seemed almost unbearable.  
He had to  
He must  
Things would fall apart if he didn’t  
But he resisted, knowing it would break his dad’s heart if he ended up binging and purging right after they had discussed how to help him stop.  
He planned on going to Pop’s when his dad was home later anyway  
Both for Archie  
And to eat and puke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil bit of a filler +some romance stuff  
> finally


	10. Bruised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie knows something's up.

The snow was still deep on the ground, and school was back in session. Jughead had fallen right back into what he would do before, and Archie, he was confused.  
Everything seemed terribly confusing, the Black Hood was gone, but now Hiram seemed to reign.  
Jughead awoke on the couch, his alarm was going off loudly, and his head was pounding again from what he assumed was the night before. His dad seemed either to be waiting for him or something else, probably on him. It had become a requirement in the morning that Jughead ate with his dad, and keep it down.  
Jughead knew there was a loophole, especially when his dad wasn’t home, or around.   
He tended to binge and purge at school and behind dumpsters, as terribly disgusting as it was, he knew he had to. It would destroy him if he couldn’t.  
Jughead got up from the couch, realizing he was still in what he wore the day before, with the exception of the jacket. He wondered what had even happened the day before, and then it all came back.  
The car, Betty, pushing it into the water. How a man was killed in Betty’s house, cleaned up, and now disposed of. His stomach seemed to protest, as the events of the night before blocked out anything else. He wasn’t sure if he could consume anything at all. He could tell his dad felt the same, but he was trying to hide it.   
“How you feeling?” FP asked him. He walked into the kitchen for some water, hoping it would help his throat stop throbbing.  
“Terrible, but that’s probably because of falling asleep at three in the morning and getting up at six.” He said, and sat at the table, his legs were trembling. He wasn’t sure if his dad would force him to eat, or if there would be some sympathy for the night before. He waited for a bit before going and getting himself ready for school. He put on his jacket and brushed his still-rotting teeth. He walked back to the kitchen to grab his bag, and FP stopped him.  
“You haven’t eaten yet.” He remarked, and Jughead sighed.  
“I’m not really in the mood.” He told FP, who just gave him another look.  
“I know, but you need to, you can’t keep surviving on nothing, I don’t even know if you’re still making yourself puke or not, you never tell me anything.” FP tells Jughead, his voice began to raise.  
“Well what do you want me to say? If I tell you after I puked, well, what would you do? It’s already done.” Jughead asked, his voice raising as well.  
“I don’t know, I just...I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore.” FP said, now yelling. Jughead couldn’t tell if he was angry or just distraught. It was heartbreaking for him to watch. He took a deep breath and made another bowl of dry cereal, hoping it would help ease some of the tension. He ate most of it, until his stomach decided to protest.  
“I’m sorry.” Jughead said, and then got up and biked to school. He knew that admitting it all would just make everything worse.  
Especially because he knew he couldn’t stop.  
He made it to school, and it seemed the tension never stopped. Archie had fallen deep into kahoots with Hiram Lodge, and that broke Jughead even more. Betty was just as distraught. It had all fallen so far once they had come back from break. Jughead had kept some food down during break, just enough to feel a slight bit better, but it had gone back to dry cereal and binging and purging everyday. He couldn’t keep going. It had wrecked him. The day went slowly, he fell asleep for the entire period of Geometry. He could barely think anyway.  
Betty showed some concern, but only because she know of what had happened the night before.  
“Hey, Jug. You holding up ok?” Betty asked him as they walked towards the cafeteria.  
“Yeah, why?” He asked her.  
“You look absolutely exhausted.” She observed, and he shrugged.  
“Well, it doesn’t help that we pushed that car in Sweetwater river last night.” He said, and they sat down soon after, quiet. They couldn’t let anyone know. Jughead did his usual, he went and got what he could. He could feel a different form of guilt, as if he was betraying his dad’s trust, but he had already eaten, so it meant that it was all needing to come up. His heart sank as he got up to go puke. The guilt caused tears to sting his eyes, which he wiped away quickly, so no one would notice.  
He locked himself in the last stall, just as he always did. It was empty, no sounds from the outside, which meant he was safe. He put up the lid and leaned over the toilet. The puke seemed to already be coming up, but he pushed on his stomach anyway, and it all came up almost instantly; in one swift purge, it all came back up, leaving Jughead on the floor in the stall. His legs were far too weak to hold him up for the time being. He let the tears begin to fall, the ones that seemed long overdue. He wanted nothing more than to stop this, and he had promised his dad he would, but he was addicted. He couldn’t. He was more ready to die from this, than recover.  
He was suddenly startled by a knock on the stall door. Someone had seen, or heard. His heart rate began to quicken. Someone was there, and he couldn’t tell who.  
“Jughead?” He heard Archie say, and then cursed himself through his own tears. He wasn’t prepared yet, for Archie to know, especially not like this.  
“I’m fine.” Jughead told him, hoping that would be enough,but Archie wouldn’t budge, so Jughead sighed, flushed the toilet and went to wash his mouth out. He ignored Archie, hoping it would be enough to stay casual, but Archie seemed to see through his lies.  
“What were you doing in there?” He asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“I felt sick.” Jughead lied, and tried to leave, but Archie grabbed his jacket.  
“I’ve caught you puking twice, and playing it off.” Archie said, his voice raising as well.  
“It’s been a stressful few months, why do you even care?” Jughead asked; he pulled his arm away, but he couldn’t hide his knuckles fast enough, and Archie caught them. His eyes never left the scabbed over teeth marks.  
“It’s destroying you, I can tell. You’ve lost so much weight that it’s worrying all of us. This is your own doing, isn’t it? The puking.” Archie said, and Jughead went quiet.  
“I...Yeah.” He said, and then he tried to leave, hoping not to say anymore.  
“Why? Jughead, why would you?” Archie asked, his voice cracked.  
“You can probably figure it out. It’s not hard to deduct.” Jughead said, and then left. He couldn’t take anymore of the confrontations.  
He spent the rest of the school day trying to stay awake, he couldn’t think of anything but what his dad had said in the morning, and the encounter with Archie, and how to hide it.   
Everything was crashing.  
When he got home, his dad was home, which stopped him in his tracks.  
“You’re home early.” Jughead observed. He noticed his dad seemed distraught over something.  
“What, you’re puking at school now?” FP said, his voice harsh. Jughead’s eyes went wide. His hands trembled again.  
“How...how do you know.” Jughead asked, surprised.  
“Fred called. Archie found you, and he saw those marks on your knuckles. Jughead, why did you lie again? Do you not want stop?” FP asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“I want to stop, but I can’t. I’m trapped.” Jughead told him, he felt tears sting his eyes again, and FP didn’t know exactly what to do, so he just walked over to his son and took him into his arms.  
“I know, I’m sorry if I’m being harsh.” He apologized, and Jughead just sobbed into his shoulder.  
He had finally broken the facade.


	11. Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FP doesn't know how to help

A few days before the four of them were off to the lodge that Veronica had offered, Betty had offered for both FP and Jughead to have dinner again, mainly so Jughead could help Betty confirm her odd suspicion that Chic was someone far more dangerous than they thought. It was risky, but he knew it was important, especially for Betty. They could get answers, and maybe solve the entire case.   
He was busy fighting his own war. There was no room for the case of Hiram Lodge, Chic, the Black Hood, even though he knew it was far more important. He realized the only thing he could think of was food, he was starving, yet it seemed he was always eating. His entire life revolved around finding places to binge and purge, as he couldn’t at home, or at the school. It was mainly at Pop’s or behind dumpsters. He knew it was terribly disgusting, but it was what he had to do.  
He hadn’t fooled his dad that he was getting better, they both knew he was sick.  
The morning of the day Jughead had been dreading for the past week had arrived. The dinner that he couldn’t get out of, and he had already started on a terrible foot. He awoke an hour before his alarm, and no one was awake yet. A wave of nausea fell over him and he knew he would end up puking, and this time, he had an excuse.  
The nausea, he had no idea where that was from, but he assumed just because of what he did. It caused all sorts of odd problems he could never expect. The whole thinking-of-food-all-the-time thing was one of the effects, so was the fact that his digestive system was terribly slow with what he kept down, and how his hair fell out, strand by strand in the shower, and even just casually if he put a hand of purple nails into it.  
He hated it dearly.  
He ended up puking, not on his own doing, but because his body had rejected something. He wasn’t sure if it was just something his body needed to do, or something had caused it, but afterwards he lay on the ground, his legs felt heavy, far more than usual. Had it finally happened? The whole dying-with-his-head-in-the-toilet thing. The bitter taste of his own stomach acid remained in his mouth for some time, and it was vile, but he wasn’t able to get up for the time being, unless he exerted the strength he didn’t have.  
“Jug? Don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you are.” He heard his dad say as he walked into the bathroom. He got to the door, and Jughead heard an exasperated sigh. He looked over.  
“I think I messed up.” Jughead told him, and he immediately rushed over.   
“What happened?” He asked Jughead, who tried to sit up.  
“I can’t really stand, my legs feel too heavy.” He explained, and FP assessed the situation, he wasn’t clueless about these things, they’d been in his life before, but not this close.  
“I think I know what may help.” FP said, and then ran out of the bathroom, leaving Jughead, unable to stand from both fatigue and an almost lethal deficiency in potassium, but FP knew what had caused it. He had some of the potassium tablets lying around, from a while back, he couldn’t remember anymore, but they helped almost immediately. He crushed the tablets into some water and walked back into the bathroom.  
“Be careful, it’s bitter,” FP told Jughead, who had already started to drink it. Jughead felt the heaviness relieve itself from his legs, and he began to stand. He finished the glass and looked over at his dad. “If this ever happens and you’re alone, I’ll leave them here. You’ll die without potassium boy.” FP said, and walked with Jughead to the kitchen, where he threw a banana at Jughead, who seemed confused, but ate it anyway, not to anger his dad, who had probably just saved his life.  
The conversation is what scared him.  
“What were you doing?” FP asked.  
“I legitimately felt sick, as hard to believe as it is.” Jughead explained. He looked down at his hand, which lay on the table. It was still just as ghostly as it was months ago, but now the added purple tinge in his nails made it more haunting. The red marks, they didn’t help either. They sat in silence for a bit, the sounds of the morning haunted the two. Jughead, who had somehow lost more weight, pulled his Serpent jacket over what he had worn to sleep, as it was still terribly cold for him.  
“Somehow you look worse than before.” FP noticed, and got up to make a bowl of dry cereal for Jughead.   
“I’ve lost more weight, if that’s what you’re noticing.” Jughead explained calmly, and with that FP slammed the bowl onto the counter, but it didn’t shatter.  
“Why?! You’re already bones boy.” FP shouted. He kept pouring the cereal after a few deep breaths, knowing that yelling doesn’t help.  
“I’m not even trying to.” Jughead rebuttled as his dad put the bowl of cereal in front of him.  
“Eat it.” FP said. Jughead sighed, he wasn’t sure if he could even stomach it, but he attempted to anyway.  
“What about tonight?” Jughead asked, and FP looked over.  
“Tonight? At Betty’s?” He asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“You’ll have to eat, I can’t let you out of this one.” FP said, and watched as Jughead looked down in defeat.  
“I don’t know...if I even can.” He said, and ate another handful of cereal.  
“Well you’ll have to, it’s one night. You’ll be able to make it.” FP said. Jughead finished his last handful of cereal, so he got up and put the bowl in the sink.  
“I don’t know if I can.” Jughead told him as he went to go change.   
“You’re a strong kid Jughead, you’ll make it.” FP told him. Jughead sighed and put on the pair of pants he always seemed to wear. They were the only pair that seemed to fit him anymore, even with a string tied as a belt.  
He finished, grabbed his bag and headed towards his bike. He found it odd that only an hour earlier he had been in his bathroom, unable to move.  
When he got to school, it seemed the usual bustle. The tension was high and familiar. His legs felt as if they were fine, and he hoped they would stay that way. He found his way to Betty and the others in the lounge, but they seemed to be having an important conversation.   
“What’s going on here?” He asked, hoping to break up the conversation, and maybe get some answers. Betty looked up and saw him eye to eye.  
“Nothing, we’re just discussing Chic, as usual.” She told him, and he sat down.  
“We’re still on for tonight, right?” He asked, and Betty nodded.  
“Absolutely, it’s the perfect time to snoop.” She said, and Jughead felt even more dread weigh upon his shoulders.  
“Great.” He whispered, sarcastically. He was terrified.  
The evening came, school uneventful and after school even more so, he got the call from his dad to meet at Betty’s. The one he feared. He couldn’t let Betty, or his dad down, so he went, on the verge of numerous panic attacks as he got closer.  
He got off of his bike almost in tears, but they would have to wait until he got home. He couldn’t let Betty see him like this. His dad had been waiting for him. Jughead dismounted the bike and walked over to his dad. His hands were trembling as they walked up to the door.  
He rang the bell, and Alice opened it just as fast.  
It was awkward, the dinner was tense, and Jughead felt such a sense of relief as Betty asked him to snoop. They ended up with nothing, which was anticlimactic, and it meant he had to go back down and face the food he feared.  
Alice had forced pie on Jughead.  
He had to eat it.  
He couldn’t puke.  
His stomach protested.  
He couldn’t do this.  
Jughead quickly left the table before anything could happen. He went back outside, hoping to calm himself. He paced the grass, the pie seemed to sit in his stomach. He could feel how heavy it seemed to pull. The feeling seemed foreign, and he hated it. The heaviness, the guilt. He wanted to just purge in the bushes, but that would be uncalled for, so he paced, his stomach still weighed down by the food.  
“Jug!.” He heard his dad shout, so he turned around, his face wet with tears.  
“I couldn’t do it dad. I can’t do this.” He says between sobs.  
“Why would leave, just like that?” FP asked.  
“I couldn’t stay. Dad, I have to get rid of it. The pie that Alice forced on me.” Jughead sobbed, hoping his dad could understand him through them. FP quickly ran over to Jughead and put his arms around him, hoping both to restrain and comfort him. Jughead fought for a bit, trying to lean over enough to puke, but he couldn’t.  
“The hell you are Jughead. I can’t keep watching you die.” FP said, his voice still raised. At this point Betty had run outside, but she only observed, a single tear was dancing down her cheek.  
Jughead was still panicking. His dad had a grip on him, and the pie weighed too heavily on him.  
“Let me go. I need to get it up.” Jughead spoke through his sobs. He was too weak to even fight his dad at this point, so he succumbed and the fighting stopped. He was only trembling now, both from the cold and his fear. There were no more words to speak, Jughead had exhausted the little energy he had, and FP was done fighting. Jughead felt the grip release, and he looked over at Betty, who had seen the entire thing. His heart sank.  
She was never supposed to know.  
No one was.


	12. Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead comes out to FP

Jughead could tell that things had somehow grown even worse, even though he had started to keep something more than dry cereal down. He hadn’t stopped puking, he somehow still ended up with his head in the toilet bowl daily. He had started to eat between cycles of binging and purging, but not enough to maintain, which meant he had lost more weight. He knew it was all too terrifying, and that if something wouldn’t change; it would end him.  
FP was trying his hardest to help Jughead, as they couldn’t afford much treatment if they tried. He was willing to help, even if it would end in many shouting matches between them.  
It broke his heart.  
Jughead knew he was destroying both his dad and himself.  
The Monday after the lakehouse was shaky. They had all figured it out. Betty knew, Archie knew, and now Veronica knew. He had never had such a pity party in his life, and he wasn’t sure he liked the idea. It all felt too much like sympathy he never had asked for.  
Walking into school felt terribly awkward, but he hoped if he acted normal, then no one would ask anything. After that weekend, he hoped it would just be forgotten, so he wouldn’t have to explain anything at all. Answering every question asked was too much for him at the moment, but that seemed to be what people did once they knew.  
And they expected him to answer every single painful question.  
The lounge was decently empty with the exception of Betty and a few others whom he wasn’t sure he knew. He assumed Archie was off with Veronica, which didn’t help his mental state at the moment, especially as he had made sure Archie remembered the conversation they had on christmas day. He could feel tears sting his eyes again, but he was unsurprised, as it seemed the usual fare these days.  
“Jug.” She said, hoping to get his attention, which was successful.  
“Yeah, what’s up Betty?” He asked. He grew nervous, as he usually did when anyone began to speak to him.  
“At the lakehouse...is it true, what you said about Archie?” She asked. His face turned red. It was all just half-asleep confessions he had, but it all came out. How he had a crush on Archie, his eating disorder, and how it seemed to be tearing him apart.  
“Yeah...it is. Sorry you had to find out in such a terrible way.” Jughead apologized. He could tell it had taken a toll on her, which just made him feel worse as well. At this point he’d just get up and binge and purge, but he knew that wasn’t an option because he had babbled on about it just a few nights before, and someone would try to pry him from the bowl.  
“It’s ok Jug. I sort of guessed it anyway.” She said, which surprised Jughead, as he was expecting much worse.  
“Look. I’m sorry, I know it was all too much to take in. I was dead tired and terrified.” Jughead told her. She walked over to where he stood.   
He wasn’t sure why he stood, but his legs felt strong enough for the time, and he wasn’t expecting it to last long.  
“It’s ok Jug. Everything you said, it’s safe with me. I don’t share secrets.” Betty reassured him, and then the two hugged, unexpectedly. He found it awkward, especially as former lovers.  
“I just hope that it wasn’t terribly awkward. I mean I was spilling many things that probably shouldn’t have been said.” He told her. She put her hand on his arm, hoping to comfort him.  
“It all needed to be said, otherwise you wouldn’t have said any of it.” Betty told him, and he nodded in defeat. She knew it all, and there was no going back now.  
The bell rang, which signified class, and he dreaded most of it, especially those with any of the others. Surely if they knew, someone else would soon know as well. Rumors spread, and this is exactly how.  
He’d be done for if anyone else knew.  
Tension seemed oddly low between the four of them, even after the weekend.  
The only thing Jughead couldn’t forgive was the whole fact that Hiram owned Pop’s. He knew blaming Veronica would solve nothing, as she wasn’t the one who bought it.   
He was bothered by the now watchful eyes of his friends, as if they were looking for any sign to interject. He ended up eating another banana, as his dad had pushed more on him.   
Potassium he believed, being deficient was deadly.  
Their eyes never seemed to leave him until he got up to throw the peel away, and he sat down.  
“What’d you expect me to do?” He asked.  
“I don’t know, after everything you said...I just.” He heard Veronica blurt.  
“I’m not that stupid, to do it at school, where my dad could find out, or anyone else.” Jughead said.   
“Where then?” She asked him. He gave her a look.  
“I wouldn’t tell, would I?” He asked. She shook her head and there was silence.  
He hated silence more than interrogation.  
“I’m sorry...I know we’ve been no help since that night.” Betty told him, and he shrugged.   
“I know you’re just trying to help, but if you stop it at one place, I’ll find another. It’s like a drug, Betty. I’m addicted to the high feeling of eating my feelings, and then puking them out again. No one except myself can stop me, as harsh as it sounds.” Jughead suddenly told her, and the other two. He hoped it would stop their witch hunt for behaviors.  
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I guess you get enough of it from your dad.” Betty apologized, and the last remark made Jughead crack a small smile.  
“Yeah, it seems he always finds me in the worst situations.” He told her.  
The rest of the school day remained uneventful. He biked home, and he wanted to meet Archie, to talk about everything.  
He was going to speak his full mind, and binge and purge all he needed to do so, even if it meant four different trips to the dumpster behind Pop’s.  
Archie agreed to meet at Pop’s.   
Jughead was reluctant at first, knowing how much in kahoots Archie was with Hiram Lodge, but if Jughead didn’t say anything now, the thought would rip him into even thinner shreds.  
“I’m surprised you even agreed to this.” Jughead said. He had his usual in front of him. He knew if his dad would walk through the door, it’d all be over, but he knew the shifts well enough. His dad wouldn’t be there till later. Archie seemed to care less about what he was doing, or he couldn’t tell.  
“I can tell you’re being torn apart by something, and if it’s about what you said in my room, on christmas day-” Archie said, but was interrupted by Jughead.  
“Exactly, you remember.” He said, and Archie nodded.  
“I know I didn’t respond, and afterwards, I couldn’t ever find a good time to respond.” Archie explained, and Jughead sighed.  
“A simple yes or no would’ve worked.” He said, and Archie was the one to sigh.  
“It’s not that simple Jug. I like you, more than a friend. Maybe...yes...no.. I don’t know. I’m not sure about Veronica. This whole ordeal has my head in a mess.” Archie explained, and Jughead got up. He couldn’t take much of the conversation.  
“I’m gonna go smoke.” He said, and excused himself. He didn’t smoke, not at all, but Archie had seen him try once, so it seemed believable. He swiftly ran to the dumpster and grabbed one of the bags he had stashed there. He wasn’t rude enough to just leave his puke on the ground.  
He opened the bag, shoved a finger down his throat and puked up all of the first meal.  
He spat a few times to rid of the bitter taste, but washing seemed pointless.  
When he got back inside, he ordered more, as the conversation had begun to break him.  
“Sorry about that.” He said, and sat back down. Archie had a look on his face, one that gave it all way. He knew what had happened.  
“Jughead, I know I’ve been absolutely terrible. I think I do like you, but I can’t admit it until I figure out Hiram’s master scheme, which means staying with Veronica.” He explained to Jughead, who could feel himself break slightly more. He choked back some tears.  
“I understand. I’ll be here when you’re ready.” Jughead choked out. He watched Archie get up.  
“I’m sorry. I wish it wouldn’t have to be like this.” He apologized, and left. Jughead caught the trail of utter disappointment and betrayal behind him.   
He was far more than crushed.  
The events resulted in more sessions. He went to puke the second meal, and then ordered a third. He found it insane, but he also found comfort in eating alone, knowing it would all come back up. He hadn’t checked the time in a bit, but the sky had begun to darken already. He went back to the dumpster to puke his third meal. The bag was almost full and his knuckles were rubbed raw. He wasn’t sure how he would survive this.  
He shoved his fingers down his throat and puked it all up, cheese included, even though it stuck to his throat like a bitch.  
“So now it’s in bags huh?” He heard his dad say behind him, and quickly, terrified.  
“I... I can explain.” Jughead said, knowing damn well he couldn’t. This was it, nowhere was safe. FP knelt down next to Jughead. He noticed the tears that had started to fall down Jughead’s sunken cheeks.  
“What happened this time?” FP asked, knowing that most of the time something triggered the event.  
“Something with Archie...Dad. I have feelings for him, I told him I was bi, and he told me he was to. Veronica and him are broken up, but he’s so far in kahoots with her dad that he denied me.” Jughead confessed and FP chuckled. It was a dead, saddened chuckle, but it was something.  
“All of this...Over being rejected?” FP asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“As shitty as it sounds.” He said. He noticed his dad was eyeing the bag.  
“How many times did you puke boy?” He asked and Jughead began trembling again. He had thought the conversation was over, but he noticed the hint of rage in his dad’s eyes. It was a broken, fiery rage.  
“You’re kidding? Three? Three separate times you walked out here and puked?” FP shouted again, and Jughead nodded. His entire body was trembling.  
“Yes.” Jughead answered swiftly. The bitter taste had started to become unbearable, as his mouth was still lined with his own stomach acid.  
“I can’t keep finding you like this, different places in town, hunched over something with your finger in your throat. What’s next? The Whyte Worm? It’s hard enough watching you go through all of what happened once your mom and Jellybean had left, but watching you waste away is another,” FP said, and Jughead noticed a single tear slip down his cheek. “One day there’ll be nothing fo you left.” He said, trying to hide the pain behind the words. Jughead remained silent as he threw the bag of puke in the dumpster and as his dad took him inside to clean him up.   
He had never thought his dad would have to help get puke off of his chin, but things are hardly as they ever are imagined to be.  
“I’m sorry dad.” Jughead said, and he noticed his dad was still just as frustrated.  
“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it Jug. I need this to stop.” He said. Jughead walked away from his grasp.  
“Dad. You know the addiction aspect. I can’t just stop.” He said, and FP took the grim reminder.  
“As with other addiction, you sure as hell can try.” FP told him, and Jughead sighed. He knew he should stop, it was obvious he needed to, as it was getting out of hand.  
That’s why he couldn’t stop.  
The eating disorder had a hold on him.  
He was no longer in control.


	13. Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunger strike doesn't go as planned.

Something had changed.  
Jughead wasn’t any better, that was sure, but he hadn’t grown worse. He had managed to finally eat enough between binges to maintain, just so his dad would stop harping on him about how thin he was.   
Well, except for now. He had somehow come up with the terrible idea of going on a hunger strike to protest the demolition of South Side high, and hadn’t eaten in days. He mainly did it to try and stop puking, even if it meant eating nothing at all. He knew it was dangerous, especially in his state.  
But he had a burning desire to somehow make himself sicker.  
Especially when everyone around him wanted him to get better. It was more of a cry for help than any form of protest.  
But it was a bit of a protest as well, just to kill two birds with one stone.  
The snow had begun to melt. It was late-February slush now, and the dreary late-winter sky plagued the town. It seemed to have seeped into the pipes, as everyone had that same dreariness.   
Time was running out, and he needed to expose Hiram before everything began to fall.   
His head was pounding as he woke up to the daily sound of his alarm. The couch wasn’t the most uncomfortable, but it definitely wasn’t ideal. He could feel his stomach cramp up from the hunger. He knew the whole fasting thing was dangerous, but he didn’t care too much anymore. It had been so long, and he had lost any hope of being ok. He dragged his body off of the couch and he realized he was wearing only his boxers. It was an awkward situation when his dad walked into the kitchen, especially since he had lost a bit in the past few days. He wasn’t sure whether it was real weight or just water retention from binging and purging or eating. He searched the living room for at least some pants in the mess. He rushed the process, hoping that his dad wouldn’t find him, not in such a state.  
His hipbones were terribly sharp.  
Just as if his own inner monologue jinxed him, FP walked out of the bathroom, having just showered. Jughead looked for anything to cover up, but all he found was a flannel, which he quickly put on, but not before his dad laid eyes on his chest, and the way his chest bones could be individually counted. The silence that continued was terribly awkward. Jughead pulled the flannel close, hiding his torso. His dad took a bowl out of the cupboard and started to pour cereal. Jughead stood still, watching. The expression on his dad’s face was haunting, as if he had seen death. Tears stung Jughead’s eyes as he watched his dad put the bowl on the table with a banana and a glass of water with crushed up potassium tablets. He knew it was for him, a reaction.  
“It’s over. Eat.” FP shouted at Jughead, who walked to the table. The tears had now begun to fall, but he wiped them away. FP wouldn’t take his eyes off of Jughead as he sat down. Jughead noticed a couple of tears had begun to fall down his cheeks, but his expression stayed stone cold, making sure Jughead ate all that was in front of him.   
When Jughead had finished he got up, silently and found the rest of his clothes. He put them on in the living room, no longer caring whether his dad saw his body. He knew it was terribly thin. His dad walked over to him, wiping some of the tears off of his face.   
“Dad...I’m sorry.” Jughead apologized. His dad sat on the couch, and Jughead sat beside him.  
“This has to stop Jug. Somehow you’ve lost more weight, when you promised you wouldn’t.” FP said to Jughead, who couldn’t look up.  
“It was just to protest-” Jughead started to explain.  
“And in your state you chose a hunger strike, knowing damn well it was dangerous.” FP shouted, unable to calm himself.  
“It was the only thing that would make an impact.” Jughead tried to explain, to lie about his reasons.  
“I fear for you Jug, everyday. I don’t want to find you dead, and if you keep this up. You’ll be dead.” FP said, and he put his hand on Jughead’s shoulder again, hoping it would comfort him.  
“I’ve got it under control dad.” Jughead lied, but he felt his dad’s grip tighten.  
“Obviously you don’t, stop making this seem less serious. This will kill you if you don’t get help.” FP said. Jughead looked at his phone, grasping for any excuse to leave the conversation.  
“I have to get to school.” Jughead said as he stood up. He grabbed his bag and walked over to the door.  
“You’re done with the strike. You better eat today boy.” FP told him from the living room, and Jughead closed the door and biked to school.  
His stomach had begun to churn, as if it wasn’t sure what to do with the food. He wasn’t sure if he would puke on the side of the road.  
The entire school day was spent clenching his fists, trying not to puke. It was as if the autopilot had messed his entire system up.  
He could barely eat willingly.  
Lunch had come, and he ate just enough that no one questioned him.  
He wanted it all to come up, just as it used to when no one knew, but to get it all up, he’d have to leave the campus, as everyone would know if he puked in the bathroom. He spent the rest of school day trying to keep the food down, which proved to be a jarring task.  
After the school day had ended, he immediately hoped to find relief at the trailer.  
Especially after chaining himself to Southside high just a few days ago. He hadn’t felt the high he craved for far too long.  
He felt he was losing it.  
Back at the trailer, Jughead noticed how empty it was, and he always wondered how his dad trusted him alone.  
It never ended well.  
The nagging hunger from the strike, and starvation seemed to take a hold, and he quickly raided for anything he could find again. He felt the pang of guilt, about what he was about to do. He hated betraying his dad’s trust, but when it came to this addiction. He had no choice, or control.  
The food seemed tasteless, as he couldn’t care less what it even tasted like. The feelings were what mattered.  
Stuff it all down, then get it all back up, leaving only emptiness.  
The wrappers scattered around the living room haunted him now. He stood up and threw them away, hoping there would be no evidence visible, and walked into the bathroom. His heart was pounding. He felt terrible for doing it again, especially after having not eaten for days.  
He leaned over the toilet bowl and sighed as he put the lid up. It was all too familiar. He shoved his fingers into his throat and puked. Most of it had come out, but he wasn’t ready to stop, so he did it again. The release seemed to rid the emptiness for the time being, so he did it again.  
It wasn’t until the fourth time he had shoved his fingers into his throat that something felt off. He wasn’t sure what, but he could feel an odd flutter in his chest, so he stopped puking and went to wash his mouth out.  
His head started to spin, and his legs felt as if they’d give out under his miniscule weight,  
He wasn’t sure if he was dying, but it sure as hell felt like it.  
Spots began to appear in his vision.  
This was it, he assumed.  
He could see the ground approaching fast, but not before he busted his lip on the sink counter.  
So there he lay, in a mini pool of blood around his mouth, puke in the toilet, unresponsive.


	14. Mutual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie finally gives a response

Jughead took a sharp breath and snapped awake. He had to fight to open his eyelids, and once he did, he was met with a brightly lit room. There was a constant beeping, and it never seemed to stop. He began to understand what had happened, exactly what he didn’t want to happen.   
He had landed himself in the hospital.  
He looked over to see his dad in the corner, asleep in the armchair, and he could feel his heart shatter. He could tell this was destroying his dad just as much as himself. He wasn’t sure whether to let his dad sleep or if he should wake him up, as he wasn’t even sure of the time or how long he was even out for. He moved his fingers, making sure that they still worked. They were stiff for sure, but they could move. He took another deep breath, and this time it didn’t hurt, which he found convenient. He wasn’t sure what had happened after he blacked out, but he could feel the waves of pain that came through his jaw, which meant he had most definitely done something to it.  
The silence got the better of him.  
“Dad.” He said, hoping it was enough to wake him up. Jughead wasn’t sure if he was ready for confrontation again, the last time they had seen each other, well it wasn’t the greatest interaction, but he was grateful for his dad, even though there was a lot of yelling, he did care.   
He watched his dad wake up, and he could feel the release of tension when FP realized he wasn’t dead.  
“Jug...Jug you’re alive.” FP said, his voice was quiet as he sighed in relief.   
“What happened?” Jughead asked, and FP walked closer to where the bed was. Jughead noticed how his dad’s hands seemed to tremble, and he knew it was his fault.  
“When I walked in, you were on the bathroom floor, blood by your chin and puke in the toilet. I thought you were dead Jug. I thought I’d lost you-” FP went on, he seemed to have many words that couldn’t be spoken without his voice breaking. Jughead hadn’t thought his heart could break more than it already had.  
But his heart shattered again.  
“I’m sorry dad…” Jughead apologized, he seemed to choke on his own sorrow. There were no dry eyes between the two.  
“I’m just glad you’re alive Jug. You had me worried.” He said, and he put his hand on Jughead’s shoulder again, as he knew it was something that helped comfort Jughead, especially during times just as these. They sat quietly for a bit, just taking in the fact that both of them were breathing. Jughead’s jaw had begun to throb as the painkillers wore off.  
“What even happened to my jaw?” Jughead asked.  
“You bruised it pretty bad, no breakage, but you lost a couple teeth...which by the way, your teeth are rotting from all the acid.” FP explained. Jughead looked down, his knuckles were wrapped up as well, as apparently those had bled and opened again as well.  
“I noticed a while ago, when the enamel had eroded away. It’s sorta obvious.” Jughead remarked, snarkily. He noticed the annoyance in his dad’s eyes and apologized.  
“You know how much you’ll need to fix those right?” FP told him, and Jughead sighed.  
“I know dad.” He said, and then heard a knock on the door, which seemed to cause both of them to jump. Jughead watched a nurse walk into the room.  
“Sorry to interrupt the moment, but we need young Mr.Jones.” She said, and helped Jughead up from the bed. He wasn’t sure what would even happen, but it seemed urgent. He followed her, and he was surprised that he was able to walk, especially after what happened. The nurse stopped outside of a hall.  
“We need to finish the paperwork with your birthdate, height, and weight, which we don’t have on file.” She explained, which surprised Jughead, but as his entire body screamed “eating disorder” He assumed that’s why they seemed so adamant on the whole weight thing.  
He knew he couldn’t escape the damage forever.  
His height stood as usual, six feet. His heart skipped a few beats as she waited for him to step on the terribly old slide-scale, that probably had been used since before his dad was born.  
109\. He wasn’t shocked by the number, he had a most neutral reaction, as he didn’t care. He was just worried about how his dad would react, as he seemed to be most affected by how thin Jughead was.  
The two walked back to the room, no words between them.  
When they arrived, he noticed that Archie was in there with his dad, which confused Jughead.  
“When did you-” Jughead started as the nurse plugged him back into the monitor, and motioned for FP to follow her outside, which he did, leaving only Archie and Jughead.  
“Your dad ended up calling my dad in panic, who told me.” Archie explained, and it prompted Jughead’s confusion. He wondered why, out of all those who would come, it would be Archie. It wasn’t Betty, who had literally seen and dealt with two breakdowns. It was Archie, the kid who had left him at Pop’s, after Jughead had confessed his crush on Archie, who ditched their road trip for an affair with the music teacher.  
“Why’d you come?” Jughead asked. Archie’s cheeks flushed almost immediately after Jughead asked, and that confirmed what Jughead suspected.  
“It was about what you said that one day, in Pop’s.” Archie explained. A smile crept across Jughead’s face. He began to wonder if this was the fateful day.  
“What about it?” Jughead asked, and Archie began to stutter.  
“I thought about it, a lot. I feel the same. I was in a trance, Hiram’s trance, but it had become too much. I couldn’t do it.” Archie explained. Jughead forgave him, and they talked it over just a bit, hoping to sort out details. Jughead found it rough, especially after Archie’s affiliation for Hiram, but he realized that the past was the past.  
He could forgive and forget, just like he did with his dad.  
“When do you get out?” Archie asked.  
“Tomorrow morning.” Jughead told him. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile in reaction from the small interaction earlier.  
It was mutual, which meant they felt the same for each other, but he wasn’t sure if it was love, not yet at least.  
“What even happened.” Archie asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“I’m not sure after I passed out, hypotension maybe, but that’s a stab.” He explained.  
“When we came into the trailer, you were out cold, with all the color drained out of your face.” Archie described to Jughead, who seemed more confused at the fact that Archie had been in his trailer.  
“Wait, what happened? You were in the trailer?” Jughead asked, and Archie nodded. He was now sitting on the side of the bed.  
“Well, when your dad called mine, I offered to come along to help. I wasn’t letting you just stay there, maybe dead. Turns out your clothes hid a lot of you. You were super easy to carry out, as if you weighed nothing.” Archie explained. Jughead put his bandaged hand onto Archie’s, hoping it wouldn’t weird him out.  
“Under 110 if you’re curious, one pound under,” Jughead smugly said, hoping it would lighten the mood. Archie seemed to be conflicted on whether he should laugh or not, and it made Jughead question what he had said. “Sorry if that was uncalled for.” He apologized.  
“It’s ok, I’m just worried about you Jug, especially recently.” Archie explained.  
The door opened again, and FP walked in, Jughead noticed the tears that had fallen down his dad’s cheeks.  
And it was all his fault.  
Archie left the room, knowing it would be better for all of them. FP walked over to Jughead.  
“You’re lucky you’re alive boy. From what they told me you should’ve died in that bathroom.” FP said. Jughead could hear the pain in his voice.  
“So what’d they say?” Jughead asked.  
“Bulimia, that’s the first thing, and that if something doesn’t change, you’ll be dead, especially with how thin you are.” FP told Jughead. It was all information he knew, but he had thought to ignore it, as nothing had happened before this. It was odd, he had felt invincible before this, but no one is invincible to the damage. He knew it would happen, but not this soon, and not as it had.  
“What happens now?” Jughead asked, knowing that there was no plan, treatment was out of the question, financially alone. FP stayed quiet, and Jughead knew that there were no idea, just as usual. It seemed no one knew.  
He was such a lost cause that even nurses didn’t know how to fix him.  
“I don’t know Jug, but this needs to stop, I’ve almost lost you once, I won’t again.” FP told him, and Jughead sighed.   
This was going to be so much harder than he had thought.


	15. Spreading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone seems to know

Tension ran high between Jughead and his dad after he had come home. There was no more hiding, and it meant something would change.   
He wasn’t ready for the turmoil, or getting better.  
In the first hour, there had already been a shouting match between them; it was with care, but Jughead felt terribly guilty all the same.  
He snapped awake soon after his alarm went off. Even after being in the hospital, he couldn’t seem to get out of school for more than a day. His head ached, just as it seemed to always do when he’d wake up. He had finally slept in the bed again, which was a nice change, but he expected nothing of it to last.  
He got up from the bed and got dressed swiftly, before anyone could find him half naked. It was awkward enough at the moment, and that would make it worse. He wasn’t sure whether he could stomach anything, but at the moment it seemed it didn’t matter. He had to eat, at least enough to not lose more weight, and that was proving difficult, especially as he couldn’t puke, which was his crutch whenever anything would go wrong.  
He walked out to the kitchen, and to his dad, who had already made sure there was food for Jughead, who sighed, knowing how kind the gesture was, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to stomach it. The two exchanged a glance, and Jughead sat at the table.  
“How do you feel? Any better?” FP asked and Jughead nodded. It wasn’t the complete truth, or a lie. He did feel better than in the hospital, but he still felt like crap.  
“A bit, but it doesn’t help that my body doesn’t know what to do with food.” Jughead explained and FP sat in the other chair. Jughead knew it would be something serious(ish).  
“That’s what the nurse told me would happen. That it’ll be like that for a bit, something with your body so used to it all coming back up.” FP explained, and Jughead shrugged as he ate the cereal.  
“So I’m doomed to suffer?” Jughead asked. He was hoping to find some humor in his condition, as there was no point not to.  
“Not if you actually go through with the whole eating thing,” FP explained as Jughead got up to finish preparing for school. He watched his dad look at the half eaten cereal and sigh. “This isn’t more than half.” He said, and Jughead looked up from his shoes.  
“It’s exactly half dad, isn’t that enough?” Jughead asked, smugly. It was the entire sympathy thing that bothered him, so whenever someone cared for him, he had to find a form of humor. It was hard to face the facts head on.  
“You gotta try harder Jug, unless you want to go back to the hospital.” FP explained as Jughead went to the front door.   
“Dad. I said I will, just give it time.” Jughead said, annoyance hinted in his voice. He went out the front door to his bike and headed off to school. He hadn’t been there since the hospital, which had now been four days, and in those four days rumors spread terribly fast.  
He feared everyone knew.  
When he got to school, his fear had come true. Stares and whispers seemed to go the length of the hallway as he walked into the door. Someone had spread, and he assumed it was probably Reggie. Whoever it was he didn’t care, he only cared that the entire school knew of his eating issues.  
It didn’t help his reputation either.  
He walked into the student lounge, and was met with the usuals of Archie, Betty, and Veronica. It was the fact that Fangs, Sweet Pea, and Toni had somehow made their way into the lounge as well, and it seemed the were waiting for him. He assumed it was another intervention, as they all looked distraught.  
“Dude, why didn’t you tell us?” Fangs asked. Jughead sat on one of the empty couches.  
“Tell you what?” Jughead asked, hoping he could stall at least until the bell.  
“Don’t play dumb, you know what.” Sweet Pea seemed to almost spit. Jughead shrugged.  
“No Sweet Pea I don’t, please tell me.” Jughead sarcastically retorted. He was still on his little endeavor to stall, but it was shut down quickly.  
“That you have bulimia. I mean you losing all that weight is one thing, but an eating disorder?” Fangs said, his voice both terribly broken and angry all at once. Jughead looked over to Archie for some backup, but it seemed he was busy with something else. Jughead had to face confrontation alone.  
“I didn’t find it important.” He lied. It was partly true, but mostly he just wasn’t wanting to explain it.  
“Didn’t find it important my ass, it almost killed you.” Sweet Pea spat again. Jughead noticed that even through the anger, there was a sadness, and it shattered his heart to see most everyone in pain.  
“I wasn’t ready, ok.” Jughead then said, knowing that lying wouldn’t help.  
“For what? What weren’t you ready for?” Fangs asked. Jughead noticed how silent Toni had been, but it was justified, this was all a lot to take in, and it didn’t help that it felt more like an ambush of words.  
“For anyone to know. It’s hard enough when your own dad finds you on the floor of a bathroom puking up your own food, but when the whole school knows you do it, it changes everything.” Jughead explained, he had begun to panic.   
“And it almost killed you.” Sweet Pea pointed out, and Jughead sighed. He knew that, and it wasn’t helping the case at all.  
“All we need to know is if you’ll be honest with us from now on Jug. Please.” Toni suddenly asked. Jughead saw the pain in her eyes. He could feel the despair begin to pool in his own tear ducts. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, especially in front of his own. He wiped the tears away, hoping it was discreet.  
“Will you, or will you not Jughead?” Sweet Pea shouted as he slammed his fists on the table. Jughead looked up, the tears were forming again, but none of them shed. He nodded.  
“I promise.” He said and all three cracked a very pained smile, Jughead as well. It was mainly for the mutual agreement, a silent response. The bell rang shortly after, but Jughead suspected that the conversation wasn’t done.  
He walked to Geometry. He dreaded it, not just because it was math, and he wasn’t amazing at it, but because of Kevin. If the school knew, Kevin knew, and the end of that would never be seen. Jughead took a sharp breath before walking into the room, because as he did, quiet chaos erupted. It seemed whispers left and right, and a couple of the absolute horrible motions of slitting wrists. He sat beside Kevin, who, as expected, had a look of concern.  
“What happened while I was gone?” Jughead asked, and Kevin looked over, making sure no one could hear.  
“While you were gone, Archie talked with Betty after he visited you, and Reggie butted in. It was wild. Archie told most things, even your weight, as he was pressed by Reggie.” Kevin explained, which caused Jughead’s heart to race. Everyone knew. They knew he purged and how he had ended up weighing 109 pounds and he was unable to even take care of himself.  
“Which means Cheryl knows as well, and that means her parents know...and the Lodges. Which they can use against me.” Jughead realized. He felt as if it was the end of it all. His head seemed to pound again from all the information, and everything went black.  
He awoke on the couch in the student lounge. He looked up to see Archie, Sweet Pea, Toni and Kevin above him.  
“What happened?” Jughead asked.  
“You passed out after I explained everything that had happened.” Kevin explained. Jughead sat up. He realized that this really hadn’t helped his case.  
Passing out in class was a surefire sign of an eating disorder for anyone.  
“How long was I out for?” Jughead asked, and Archie looked at the clock.  
“Two hours.” He told Jughead.  
“Why would you say all that to Reggie? Of all people...Reggie.” Jughead asked, clearly he was peeved with Archie.  
“He was threatening me Jug. I couldn’t do anything.” Archie explained, and Jughead just shook his head.  
“You could’ve said no. It’s not like he was going to kill you.” Jughead suggested and Archie shook his head.  
“He probably would’ve if I had refused.” Archie explained.  
“I have to admit, that’s true,” Sweet Pea explained. “They were pretty much locked, and it would’ve ended far worse.”   
“This wasn’t supposed to be anyone’s problem but mine, and now...the whole town knows that I, Jughead Jones, have goddamn bulimia.” Jughead spat, he was a bit more than peeved at this point.  
“Jug, we love you, and if anyone’s causing trouble, we got your back.” Sweet Pea told him, which was odd, especially for Sweet Pea, but Jughead asked no questions. It felt better to know Sweet Pea didn’t hate him.   
Jughead heard hurried footsteps through the building.  
“Did one of you call my dad…?” Jughead asked. Everyone else looked at each other.  
“I did, just to let him know, I wasn’t expecting him to come.” Toni explained. Jughead sighed, he wasn’t ready for another one of the both frustrating and heart-wrenching confrontations.  
FP stormed into the lounge and saw the huddle around Jughead. He made his way through and sat beside him on the sofa. He motioned for the others to disperse.  
“Dad, everyone knows, the entire town.” Jughead said. His knees had made their way into his chest.  
“Who ratted it out?” FP asked him.  
“Archie apparently, but only under threat from Reggie.” Jughead explained. He felt terribly awkward with his dad next to him at the school, it wasn’t a common situation at all.  
“I always assumed that Reggie kid was trouble. Are you ok now? Heard you had passed out.” FP asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“It was mainly just a reaction to the fact that everyone knows. I’m fine now, but I do want to go home, if that’s ok.” Jughead explained, knowing he’d have an excuse, and that being at school felt terribly toxic.  
“But only for today, I need you to do well in your classes.” FP said. He went to sign Jughead out, and they went home, where Jughead was left alone soon after.  
Which was still just as dangerous.


	16. Together?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead asks Archie a bit about love

The snow had finally melted, and it was a pleasant surprise, especially to Jughead, as it meant it wouldn’t be terribly cold anymore. It seemed he wasn’t as cold anymore. The tensions between the Lodges and him were strung high, and it didn’t help anything. He had published the article that started to take down Hiram Lodge, and it wasn’t helping anything. There was a civil war brewing, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.  
He had somehow not puked for a few weeks, mainly from fear of repeating what had happened those few weeks ago. It proved more difficult than he had assumed it was to eat, especially when he couldn’t fall back to his crutch.  
Jughead awoke in a puddle of his own sweat again, it seemed to be what was happening lately. He wasn’t sure why, but he assumed it was all due to the food. It didn’t help that he seemed to be hungry all the time, and it was literally all the time.   
No one had told him the aftermath of what he had done, and what the body seems to do when food is re-introduced. He wasn’t sure that anyone knew what was happening, and the nurses, they kept him in the dark.  
The sweat had dried at least a bit, but it remained damp, and the musty smell lingered. He got up from the bed. His legs were still terribly heavy, and even though he was eating, he was still dead tired. It was as if he couldn’t win.  
He found his balance and walked into the kitchen, where he was met with his dad, as usual. It seemed every morning it was the same thing, but he was ok with it. His dad never seemed to force anything anymore, as he knew the pain that came with eating. He made sure there was something available. Jughead was hungry, as he always seemed to be.  
“Did you wake up in sweat again?” FP asked him. Jughead sat at the table.  
“How’d you know?” He asked as he started eating.  
“You reek of sweat, shower before you leave.” FP explained and Jughead cracked a smile. He hoped the atmosphere would clear up, and it seemed to have, at least a little bit. He was able to crack jokes about his disorder without anything being brought up.  
“You know, you may need to wash the sheets, they reek as well.” Jughead brought up and his dad smiled.  
“I’ll get that, you, you just worry about yourself and getting better.” He said. Jughead finished the bowl and went to shower. He removed his clothes and he caught his reflection in the mirror. He noticed how it seemed he lost more weight, and it confused him, as he was eating far more, but it didn’t bother him, he almost welcomed it. The sense of being sick, it was something he found so much comfort in it.  
He showered, changed and brushed his still rotting teeth. He noticed the oddly large amount of hair that was in the drain.  
He was bothered by the way everything got worse when he was trying to get better.   
He walked back out to the kitchen. He had made plans with Archie that day, as he hoped they could maybe make their relationship official, but he didn’t expect Archie to agree, at least not yet.  
“I’m off to see Archie, if you’re wondering.” Jughead told his dad, who was also preparing for a shift at Pop’s.   
“Are you and Archie?” FP asked, and Jughead shook his head as his cheeks flushed.  
“Not yet, but I’m hoping.” Jughead explained.  
“What about Betty?” FP asked. Jughead looked down.   
“We’ve been broken up for a while, but we’re still friends.” Jughead explained. He left the trailer and biked over to Archie’s. He was terrified of the leap, it would make or break his relationship with Archie.  
His entire body was trembling as he knocked on the door. He kept his eyes on the ground until the door opened.  
“Jug, you’re early.” Archie observed and invited Jughead inside.   
“Yeah, I was anxious to get out of the house.” Jughead explained as he walked to the kitchen. He was hungry again, but it seemed he always was now, and as if on cue, Archie walked in.  
“You hungry? I ordered pizza earlier.” Archie said, and Jughead nodded. He wasn’t sure how long it’d last before he fell back. It would be maybe a week, a month. Soon enough, he knew.  
“Yeah, sure.” He said and they sat at the counter. Jughead didn’t hesitate to eat a slice, hoping it would take the nagging hunger away.  
“So are you ok now?” Archie asked, and Jughead looked up from his plate.  
“With what?” Jughead asked as he bit into another slice.  
“The whole eating thing...throwing up.” Archie said, his voice lowering. Jughead cracked a smile.  
“Not at all. I guess you could say I’m just doing damage control.” Jughead explained. He knew his body was just protesting, and once the whole hunger thing slowed, he’d just fall back down.  
“Jug.. Why do you?” Archie asked, and Jughead sighed. He put the pizza down and went to wash his hands.  
“Control. Between losing half my family, my dad being in jail, being accused...Before that just being alone. It was how I coped.” Jughead explained and he could feel the seemingly never endless pit of hunger return. It was too much, and all he wanted to do was puke and go to sleep until it ended.  
It seemed Jughead had finished off almost an entire pizza, and he was still terribly hungry, as if nothing was enough. It didn’t help that his digestive system was slow to rid the food, which meant he was in constant pain at most times of the day. Everything seemed better when he was still puking twice a day.  
The two ended up in the living room, on one of the couches. Jughead was hoping it would be the right place to ask. He spent a bit of time in silence as Archie brought coffee for both Jughead and himself. He sat down beside Jughead, who seemed panicked.  
“What’s up Jug?” Archie asked as he sat.  
“This may sound terribly crazy.” Jughead started. He stopped before saying anymore. His heart beat too fast.  
“Go on...I’ve seen worse.” Archie urged and Jughead took a deep breath.  
“I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d want to, make it official?” Jughead asked, awkwardly. He could feel his cheeks flush.  
“As in, dating?” Archie asked and Jughead nodded.  
“Yeah, absolutely.” Archie said, just as awkwardly as Jughead had asked. There was a pause before the two leaned closer, almost touching lips, before they were interrupted by Fred walking in.  
“Hey Arch-” Fred said before seeing the two of them. “Hello Jughead.” He said, and went into the kitchen. Jughead could tell he saw the empty pizza box.  
“Did you guys eat an entire pizza, again?” Fred asked and Jughead stopped staring into Archie’s eyes for a few seconds.  
“I did.” Jughead said, he hoped that maybe all this would get everyone off of his back about the bulimia.  
“Weren’t you just in the hospital a week ago because you wouldn’t eat?” Fred asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“I can’t just not eat forever...Mr. Andrews.” Jughead smugly said and got up. He knew it might be a better idea to leave before things get too awkward. He biked to Pop’s, hoping his dad would be willing to talk about Archie, and not about him.  
When he arrived, he sat at the counter, and his dad walked over, knowing he was needed.  
“What happened Jug.” FP asked. Jughead shrugged.  
“I asked Archie if he wanted to officially date...Then Fred showed up. Asked about the whole bulimia thing.” Jughead explained, and FP put his hands on Jughead’s arms, hoping to comfort him again.  
“What did Archie say?” FP asked, and Jughead turned red as he cracked a smile.  
“He said yes...Then Fred walked in.” Jughead said. He couldn’t face anyone really, especially if they asked about the eating thing.  
“And he confronted you about…?” FP asked.  
“I ate a whole pizza, well except for one slice, Archie ate that one.” Jughead explained, and he noticed a smile creeping across his dad’s face.  
“That’s a step up.” FP said, and Jughead shook his head.  
“It’s like I’m always hungry, dad, and not like a ‘I’m going to just throw this up’ hunger, but a burning hunger, and it doesn’t go away.” Jughead started, hoping that maybe opening up would help anything.  
“Is it an after-effect, of what you were doing?” FP asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“I’m guessing yeah, but I’m not sure why. I was eating all the time.” Jughead said. He looked down again, observing his terribly boney fingers move. It haunted him, especially the red scars that seemed to never diminish. FP’s eyes fell on them to. Jughead noticed the tears begin to form in his dad’s eyes.  
“I saw your file...Jughead…” FP said, and Jughead knew he had seen it all. He knew about the bulimia, the self harm, but he never knew the gritty details. The weight, the severity and how close to death this truly had been.  
“Yeah, and. I have bulimia, you know that.” Jughead said, and FP shook his head. There was pain that wallowed in his eyes.  
“109 pounds Jughead, I knew it was bad, but on the page it said severe, and it seems you’ve lost even more.” FP said, and Jughead sighed.  
“I know it’s bad, but I’m eating. I’m eating again, is that enough?” Jughead said. He felt FP’s grip tighten.  
“I just...I don’t want to lose you.” FP said, and Jughead gave him a smile, hoping to calm him.  
“Don’t worry about me dad. I’ll be ok.” Jughead reassured him. He knew he had to lie, as it would break his dad more if he told the truth.  
That he planned to relapse immediately after his body stopped destroying itself.


	17. Falling Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midges' death has torn up the town.

The night of Midge’s murder wasn’t one that many could get out of their heads. He went with Archie, Betty, and Veronica when they went to Pop’s, as it seemed they always did when something happened, after they were interrogated by Sheriff Keller.   
His head couldn’t fully grasp what had happened, it was as if everything had started to crash down again.  
They sat in one of the further booths, and it seemed only Jughead ordered anything. He was terribly hungry, just as usual. It still wouldn’t go, even after eating for two weeks. Somehow, he’d lost weight again, it was slowing down, but it hadn’t stopped, which started to concern him.  
He knew he was already thin enough, he wasn’t sure he could even lose anymore.  
Jughead started eating the food, which was enough to consider a binge for sure, and he knew it would come up.  
“I knew the Black Hood wasn’t dead.” Archie said. His hands were shaking. They were all terrified. It wasn’t over, and it seemed something new had been brewing.  
“Who could it even be? We’ve exhausted everyone.” Veronica asked, and then names were thrown around left and right as Jughead just finished everything on his plate.  
He hadn’t puked in a few weeks, and he all of a sudden feared it.  
It had to come out, he couldn’t let it sit.  
He excused himself from the booth and went to the bathroom with all eyes on him. He knew that they knew what he was doing, but he could care less. He could feel the familiarity of it. Those many days he spent at Pop’s, writing, binging and purging throughout the sessions. He could tell he was falling back.  
He walked into the bathroom and locked the stall door. His stomach had begun to churn. He shoved his fingers into his throat and hoped it would be swift, like it used to be, but it seemed stuck, as if his body had already deemed it foreign. He shoved his fingers into his throat again and more came out, but it still seemed stuck.  
He guessed that he would be puking for a bit, and he had to somehow be discreet about it.  
Eventually it all came out, and he was left gasping for air and a pounding headache. He hoped no one saw, or heard, but with the time he spent in there, everyone probably knew. He washed his mouth out and fixed his beanie, to make sure nothing looked out of place. He had grown used to the way he looked dead, and it hadn’t changed. He was still just as pale and his eyes were just as bruised and dark.   
He walked back to the booth. He noticed that Veronica had left, but Betty and Archie remained, and both looked straight at him when he walked back. He assumed they knew what had went down in the bathroom.  
“Where did Veronica go?” He asked, hoping they would ignore what he had done.  
“She had to go home, her parents.” Archie explained as Jughead sat. He made sure to hide his knuckles from them, as they were terribly red from his teeth. He looked up to see the expression of concern across both Betty and Archie’s faces.  
“What?” Jughead asked.  
“Did you puke again?” Betty asked, her voice seemed to waver, which stopped Jughead in his tracks.  
“How’d you figure that out?” Jughead asked, and Betty shrugged. He was hoping somehow to lighten the mood. He was sick of the sympathy and the questions. The minute everyone had figured out what he was doing, it seemed only sadness followed.  
“Jughead, you literally spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom, and you came back terribly pale.” Betty observed. The lights seemed to darken as the night had grown.  
“I guess that’s true.” Jughead agreed. He could tell that everything seemed to be falling again, and he was ready to embrace it.  
Being sick was a comfort he wasn’t ready to let go.  
The night grew late, Archie had gone home, and Betty as well, leaving Jughead alone. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go home, especially if he had to face his dad, but he knew being alone would be just as bad. He paid, got outside, and biked home.  
The lights were still on in the trailer, which meant his dad was awake. It had been a good hour since he puked so he hoped it was enough for the color to return in his face. He took a deep breath and walked inside. He hoped it was too dark to notice anything.  
“Where were you boy?” FP asked when he heard Jughead’s footsteps through the kitchen.  
“At Pop’s, with Archie, Betty, and Veronica.” Jughead explained, as he went into the bathroom to change. He was hoping to be prepared, just in case he fell asleep on the couch. He walked back out after changing and made his way into the living room to hopefully finish up some writing on the article he had planned to publish on Hiram, again.  
“How you holding up? After the incident.” FP asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“Fine.” Jughead explained, hoping no more questions were asked. He hoped that he could sleep on the couch, so his dad got the bed, it was just another way to keep everyone in the dark.   
“Are you sure, you look terribly pale, like you used to.” FP observed, and that set alarm bells off in Jughead’s mind. His dad knew, and it wouldn’t be a nice conversation that followed.  
“I’m fine dad, other than the fact that I just saw someone murdered on a stage.” Jughead explained, and he turned on his laptop.  
“You look like your dead, again, like you did before the hospital.” FP observed, and Jughead knew what was happening. It was questioning, his dad knew what went down.  
“What are you asking?” Jughead asked, and he noticed the pause in his dad’s motion.  
“Did you do it again?” FP asked, his voice broke.  
“Do what? It’s ok to say it dad, I’m not ashamed.” Jughead told him. He hated how it seemed everyone thought he was ashamed of it all. He didn’t hate it at all, it was a part of him now, and if everyone knew it, then why should he be ashamed.  
“Did you binge and purge?” FP asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“Yeah, but I have good reasoning.” Jughead explained, hoping it would clear the air, but it just created more tension. FP slammed his fists into the wall by the kitchen counter.  
“Good reasoning my ass. There’s never a good reason to destroy yourself. You look like hell, boy.” FP shouted. Jughead looked up from his laptop. He could feel his hands tremble again.  
“I know...I know what this does, I live with it.” Jughead said, hoping it would end the conversation, a most painful conversation.  
“Then why? Why do you keep doing it? I don’t understand.” FP shouted.  
“It’s an addiction. Something happens, what do I do? I binge and purge. It puts my head at ease, do you understand? It’s a way to cope, because I never learned how to.” Jughead explained, and his dad sat back down. Jughead noticed how his knuckles trembled.  
“I can’t keep watching you do this boy. You almost died once, I don’t want to find you covered in blood and almost dead again. I won’t lose my son.” FP said, and Jughead sighed.  
“It’s going to be ok dad, I promise.” Jughead lied, knowing damn well that puking at Pop’s had opened the door again.  
He was done trying to get better. Being sick brought him far to much comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had terrible writer's block, sorry if it's bad.


	18. Renaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens

Riots had broken out in Riverdale, and it seemed to have seeped into the heads of the people, including Jughead, who had a run in with Penny Peabody once again, this time to retrieve Toni Topaz. He knew it would be his own problem, and he knew he had to solve it.  
It didn’t help that he essentially binged and purged whenever he had a bit of time, as the riots didn’t help his mental state. He had gained a bit after that last encounter with his dad, just to get everyone off of his back. It seemed even Penny Peabody noticed how thin he had become since the last time they spoke.   
It didn’t seem to be an advantage, especially as he was planning to offer himself for the Serpents.  
After Fangs ended up in the hospital, FP had parted ways with Jughead, as he was needed elsewhere, leaving Jughead to his own devices. It wasn’t an ideal situation at all. In all honesty it was a terrible situation.   
Before he left to the Whyte Wyrm, he found an old dumpster. He had already binged at the trailer, knowing he’d stop on the way, just to puke. The flames from the riot were visible from even such a distance, but he assumed he’d be safe here, no one to would be there to catch him. Jughead ducked behind the dumpster and quickly shoved his fingers in his throat, knowing this would probably be the last time he’d ever do it, especially if he’d hand himself over to Penny. He didn’t care too much about cleaning himself up, as no one would care too much. The bitter taste of acid lingered, but it wasn’t terribly noticeable, so he continued to the Whyte Wyrm.  
It was chaos when he arrived, and no one could make any form of decision at all. He couldn’t get his head around anything either.   
His dad had arrived just minutes later, and with all the chaos, no one seemed to care what Jughead did, which he found both terrifying and pleasant.  
Fangs was dead.   
They had decided to go to war with the Ghoulies, which was not something Jughead could even consider, he knew it would end in failure. He ended up back at the trailer with his dad, and all they could do was argue, as it always seemed to be once the buildup to the riots seemed to happen.  
He wanted to just go to Pop’s, binge and purge until he coughed up blood.  
His dad left to go help with the Serpents at the riots, leaving Jughead in the trailer, which was dangerous.  
He had two ideas, and one of them could be fatal.  
He decided to give himself to Hiram and Penny, to save everyone else from inevitable death.  
He called Hiram, started by verbally attacking him a bit, and then offered himself, which was taken well.  
He wasn’t sure he’d make it out alive, so he said his goodbyes and biked over to the hideout again, where it seemed Penny would happily take him.  
The pain from every hit seemed to get worse, and it didn’t help that he was as thin as he was.  
The night was one he wasn’t planning to survive, and eventually his eyes did close, and he could only feel the pain until he went unconscious, he was sure it was the end.  
He awoke quickly with a painful breath. He was alive, somehow. He was in the hospital, tubes seemed everywhere, but he was alive.  
It was the second brush of death he had in a few months, and somehow he was alive.  
“Dad.” He said, and immediately watched his dad jump awake.   
“Jug…” He said, and Jughead noticed how terribly sad his dad’s voice was. It didn’t help that the room was quiet, almost too quiet, especially in such a moment.  
“How long was I out for?” Jughead asked.  
“A day, surprisingly. They thought you’d be out for much longer...Because of the damage from the bulimia.” FP explained, and Jughead knew how hard it all was for his dad, and he felt terrible for it all.  
“Is everyone else ok? Archie and Betty?” Jughead asked, and FP nodded.  
“They’re fine, worried sick about you, as most everyone else is. What you did was reckless, and yes, I know about the fact that you binged and purged before the Whyte Wyrm.” FP explained. Jughead looked away, he knew there was no getting out of anything.  
“It was during the heat of the riots dad...My head was a mess.” Jughead explained, but his dad was having none of it.  
“You could’ve died, hell, you’ve already almost died twice.” FP shouted. It seemed Jughead was used to this, as every argument they had started with this.  
“I know. I know how bad it is, but I can’t stop, it’s as if it’s autopilot; whenever I feel anything at all, I binge and then I purge.” Jughead explained, his own voice had broken as well, but he couldn’t raise his voice. He was still too weak.  
“What about that month, where you ate? You looked alive Jug, for the first time in years.” FP remarked, and his voice lowered, the sadness had come back.  
“Funny you think I planned to stop, I was just too exhausted to even try.” Jughead said, and FP sighed.  
“You looked healthier, even gained much-needed weight, but it’s gone again, and now you’re back to looking as if you’re dead.” FP told him.  
“I’m sorry I keep messing up, but what would’ve happened if I had left the Ghoulies to you? You were outnumbered, it would’ve destroyed the Serpents.” Jughead explained.   
“I just can’t watch you die as many times as I have.” FP told him, and a nurse pulled FP from the room, leaving Jughead alone. He texted Archie, hoping to have some company, but he wasn’t hopeful. The school was closed because of the damage from the riots, and the town seemed to need time to heal.  
There was a response almost immediately, and Archie had confirmed he would come as soon as he could.   
Jughead couldn’t take the silence, the beeping that seemed to remain in the room was not a noise he found pleasant, and the sooner someone came, the more at ease his head would be. He heard snippets of the conversation outside, and each word pierced him more and more. He listened in for as long as he could, but then the door opened and Archie walked in, which lightened Jughead’s spirits.  
“How you holding up?” Archie asked as he walked in, and Jughead shrugged.  
“I’m alive, I guess that’s pretty good.” Jughead told him. Archie sat on the bed, as it seemed Jughead took up almost no space.  
“What even happened?” Archie asked.  
“I don’t know, I fell unconscious when Penny took her knife to my serpent tattoo.” Jughead explained. Archie put his hand on Jughead’s, hoping it would comfort him.  
“How long are you in here this time?” Archie asked.  
“I don’t know yet, that’s why my dad’s outside, to discuss treatment.” Jughead explained.  
“For the bulimia?” Archie asked, and Jughead nodded. They seemed to hold one another’s gaze. Jughead had never felt the connection before, but he knew what it was. Longing.  
“Yeah...probably because of the weight thing.” Jughead explained.  
“I thought you gained enough?” Archie observed.  
“Guess it wasn’t enough...119 apparently.” Jughead said. Archie leaned in closer; he put a hand on Jughead’s cheek. He hoped it would comfort Jughead.  
“You were what, 109 last time you were in here right?” Archie asked, and Jughead nodded again. He couldn’t lie to himself, he loved the feeling of Archie’s hands on his cheek, it was a long overdue feeling.  
“Yeah.” Jughead said. He hated the numbers. They didn’t matter to him, at all. He just wanted nothing to do with the hospital, and if he had to stay here longer, well, his life would turn upside down, especially if they forced him to go inpatient, but he knew his dad would pull through for him.  
“You’ve made progress, why are they still so set on it?” Archie asked as he took his hand off of Jughead’s cheek. They remained as close.  
“Money, just like everything else in this town.” Jughead explained.  
“Makes sense, again, I’m sorry about the whole Hiram thing. I really don’t know what had gotten into me.” Archie apologized, and Jughead put his hand on Archie’s cheek now. He pulled Archie closer.  
“Love makes you do crazy things, especially false love.” Jughead said, and then he crashed his lips onto Archie’s, hoping it was a welcomed gesture, and it was, as Archie kissed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you want more relationship stuff, or ED stuff?  
> I'm not sure what you like more


	19. Static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jug is still in the hospital

Jughead and Archie were interrupted by the door opening, and FP walked back in. Jughead could tell the conversation was distressing just from the look on his dad’s face. Archie scooted back to a normal-looking space between him and Jughead.   
“What’d they say?” Jughead asked, and FP sat back in the chair, his hands on his temples.  
“Inpatient, they want to put in some program...away.” FP explained, and Jughead sighed. He couldn’t leave, not now, not after the whole incident with Hiram, and he didn’t even expect them to have the funds for it.  
“What’d you say?” Jughead asked.  
“No, we don’t have the means to pay for it anyway. I can’t let them them tear us apart again.” FP explained, and Jughead could feel the despair in his dad’s voice. He felt the same, his family had been apart for far too long.  
“But what happens at home? I’ll probably fall back, do the same thing I always do.” Jughead explained. FP let out another frustrated sigh.  
“I know it’s risky, but you can’t keep lying to me, keeping me in the dark. You have to promise you’ll be honest.” FP told him. Jughead kept his hand on Archie’s, it was a way to comfort him.  
“I’ll try to be.” Jughead said. He knew it’d be hard, as he had grown so used to hiding everything.  
“You’ll need to eventually get those teeth looked at as well. They seemed pretty bad.” FP told Jughead, who had to agree, his teeth were starting to rot. They were decently ugly, and he knew two were probably needing to come out.  
“Do you know when I get out of here?” Jughead asked. He desperately wanted out, as every moment spent in the hospital was time he couldn’t use to try and stop Hiram from taking the town.  
“In a week, as long as everything goes ok.” FP told him.  
“And when would I need to be back in school, do you know yet?” Jughead asked. He wasn’t keen on going back, at least not that soon.  
“Not immediately, but you can’t miss too much, don’t want you to get behind in your classes.” FP told him, which caused Jughead to roll his eyes.  
“Even in times of crisis, you’re still a dad.” Jughead explained. His hand held onto Archie’s, who was surprisingly quiet this entire time.  
“About that...Archie, you’re with Jug, right?” FP asked, and Archie nodded quite awkwardly, as he wasn’t expecting to even be asked about it.  
“Yeah, if that’s ok with you.” Archie said, and Jughead cracked a smile at how awkward Archie always seemed to be.  
“As long as Jug’s happy.” FP said, and as if on cue, Jughead pecked Archie’s cheek, hoping to set it in stone.  
Archie had to leave, and only FP and Jughead remained in the room. The silence remained, and every minute that passed, it grew more awkward.  
“Don’t you have a shift at Pop’s?” Jughead asked.   
“In a bit.” FP told him, and took that as a hint to leave. Jughead was alone for a bit, and all he wanted was Archie in the room. He wasn’t ready to be alone, so he texted both Betty and Archie, asking if anyone had time. He knew that especially at this point, being alone would just cause his head to run, and every thought that seemed to cross was disordered. He couldn’t deal with those at the moment.  
Betty walked into the room about fifteen minutes later, surprising Jughead with some flowers.  
“Congrats on Archie.” She said, and he sighed. It was exactly what he feared, he knew it would be rough once she found out...and now she did.  
“Sorry you had to find out that way.” Jughead apologized, and she shook her head as she put the flowers on the table,  
“It’s ok, I expected it anyway, besides you have more important things to worry about.” She told him. Jughead was reminded of what he loved about Betty. She was forgiving, and able to accept how life flows.  
“And you? How’re you holding up after the whole Black Hood thing?” Jughead asked, and Betty shrugged.  
“I’m just glad he’s out of my life, what about you, how long are you here?” She asked.   
“Not sure, a week probably.” He said. Betty sat down, and he knew it meant a conversation would ensue.  
“Even with your whole bulimia thing? Are you going to try to get better now, for real?” Betty asked, her voice had hints of concern. Jughead hadn’t even realized she still cared as much as she did.  
“I’ll try, no promises.” Jughead told her, and her expression dropped.   
“Jug…” She said and gave him a look, which he knew very well. It was mainly just scolding through her eyes.  
“Fine, I’ll get better...eventually.” He said as he gave in to her stare. They shared the same silence, and it grew awkward. He could feel the tension wrap around him.  
“So you and Archie, huh?” She asked. He felt his cheeks flush as she spoke, this was clearly a conversation he didn’t want to have.  
“Yeah, again, sorry for not telling you sooner.” He apologized and she shook her head.  
“No, no, it’s ok, love happens, and changes.” She said, and he let out a sigh of relief. It seemed he had held his breath for the entire conversation.  
“I’m sorry, again.” He apologized. His face remained warm. The conversation was terribly difficult, especially as Betty seemed almost in the dark about his whole eating disorder.   
“Why? Why do you do it?” She asked suddenly, and he looked over, his eyes wide.  
“A lot of reasons, just meaningless shit when I was still 14, and then it just ended up becoming an addiction.” Jughead explained, tired of telling everyone the same, lame story.  
“Why didn’t you tell me? When we were together.” Betty asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“I was scared, I didn’t want to stop, and if I told anyone, I’d have to. I’m not mentally ready for it.” Jughead explained to her.  
“When will you be ready? It seems you never were.” She observed and he shrugged.  
“Never, I was ready to let it kill me, honestly.” He explained.  
“Oh Jug...I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” She apologized. Jughead hated the sympathy, but it seemed no one cared. All they did was give him these looks of pity, which he found terribly annoying.  
“It’s ok Betty, it really is. I never opened up at all really, except for that night in the cabin, and again...sorry about that.” He apologized. They finished up their conversation, and she left as a nurse came in to make sure that Jughead was still alive.  
The empty promises of getting better began to dawn on him.


	20. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead is back home.

Going back home was proving difficult for Jughead, especially with his dad knowing everything. Things were going to change, and Jughead wasn’t sure he was ready for it.  
He would still wake up in slight puddles of sweat, less than it used to, but it was still just as uncomfortable. The hunger did seem to subside just a bit, but only to the point where it was bearable. He despised the fact that recovering was harder than being completely submerged in the disorder.  
Jughead awoke to the familiar musty smell of his own sweat. He wasn’t as tired as he usually would be, but that was mainly from not going to school for a bit. It had finally opened again after the riots, and he didn’t need to go for another week, which was both nice and terrible. Archie would never be available until after three, and he was alone quite a bit with nothing to do. It was perfect set up for binging and purging, but he didn’t want to let his dad down.   
They had made a promise, that if Jughead wanted to puke, or if he did, he’d have to tell his dad, so they can do damage control and figure out what caused it. It seemed to be a cheap alternative to therapy, as they couldn’t afford it. He knew his dad wasn’t even close to good at it, but it was enough.   
He walked into the kitchen, and it was empty, as it usually seemed to be. His dad was at Pop’s, everyone else at school, except Betty, but she had so much on her plate, and he didn’t want to bother her. He was hungry, as he usually was when he woke up, he never really missed breakfast, except for that terrible idea of a hunger strike. It was what kept him alive when nothing else stayed down.   
Jughead poured cereal into a bowl, and just as he had for the past few months, he grabbed a banana. It was now the safest thing he could eat. He sat at the table and ate. He didn’t struggle to finish it at all, in fact he wasn’t sure how to stop.  
As if he lost the ability to eat, it was everything or nothing at all.  
The loneliness of the day seemed to seep into the atmosphere. He spent time writing, distracting himself from the food, as all he wanted was to eat everything. It wasn’t long until he did cave, he went to scour what he could find. He wasn’t sure if he would keep it down or puke it up.   
He ate a bit, but he was able to stop before his head began to spin and purging was his only option.   
Yet he was still hungry.  
Archie came by once school had let out, and Jughead felt a relief wash over him, as now his head wouldn’t think of only food.  
“How you holding up?” Archie asked and Jughead shrugged.  
“The wounds are healing slowly, but fine.” Jughead explained. He sat down on the couch, and Archie followed.  
“What about the eating thing?” Archie asked. Jughead shrugged. He knew it was bad, as he was still in the cycle and mindset. He knew he would probably end up with his head in the toilet by the end of the day.  
“It’s ok, nothing’s changed...well other than the fact that I can’t puke. My dad, he knows, every time I do it.” Jughead explained, frustrated. He knew it was not something he should be frustrated about, as it was a terribly destructive habit.  
“Are you going to stop?” Archie asked. Jughead shook his head. He wanted to, but he wasn’t sure he could, as it was an addiction. There would be withdrawals, and they were painful, terribly painful. He had a few of those in the past, where his stomach would be in pain, his head pounding and he wouldn’t be able to move for hours.  
“I’m not sure I can yet, it hurts everytime I try.” Jughead explained. He could feel phantom pain just thinking about the situation.  
“It hurts? I thought it’d hurt when you puked.” Archie said. Jughead let out a slight chuckle as he shook his head.  
“It wasn’t painful at all, especially not compared to not doing it. It’s as if my body doesn’t know what to do with food anymore.” Jughead explained. He put his hand back on Archie’s, and moved closer.  
“Will you go through with it, fully this time?” Archie asked, his voice wavering.  
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.” Jughead told him. He knew he would relapse, he always did. It wasn’t the first time he tried to get better.  
Recovery was hard, there was no doubt about it.  
Jughead leaned in close to Archie’s face, hoping to re-create the moment they had in the hospital, hoping it was real. Archie was his distraction from the mental stress of extreme hunger and bulimia.   
They peck again, and Jughead’s cheeks flushed again. He loved Archie, that was for sure.  
“Are you sure you still like me?” Jughead asked, awkwardly. And Archie placed his hand on Jughead’s swollen, yet sunken cheek.  
“Jug...of course.” Archie told him.  
It was as if on cue, the door opened and FP walked in. Quickly Archie and Jughead moved back to a normal distance between them.  
“Was I interrupting something?” FP asked and Jughead’s cheeks were hot.  
“N-no, not really.” He said. FP walked to the sink and grabbed a glass, which he filled with water.  
“It’s ok, Jug, I know about the steamy hospital kiss,” FP said as he walked towards the couch. He placed the glass of water in front of Jughead. “Drink boy, doctor told me you were real dehydrated.”   
Jughead awkwardly took the glass and took a sip. He looked at Archie and they both let out a laugh, which caused Jughead to spit a bit of water.  
“I called mom, to tell her about what had happened,” FP told Jughead. The atmosphere dropped. “It wasn’t a good conversation.” FP said, but it seemed to Jughead that he didn’t want to speak about it more, so he asked no questions.  
“Dad, I was hoping I could go to school a bit earlier, maybe Wednesday?” Jughead suggested, hoping to change the conversation.  
“Well, if you promise not to use it as an excuse to purge.” FP said, and Jughead nodded.  
“I wouldn’t be able to anyway, the entire school is breathing down my back about it, especially Sweet Pea.” Jughead explained. He took another sip of the water, which, he couldn’t lie, felt almost soothing to his throat, which was raw from acid. FP went to work on something, leaving Jughead and Archie to themselves. Jughead felt massive relief, and the two locked lips again, a little more passionately.  
Jughead couldn’t think about anything, not even food for the second.  
He was distracted.  
But things never remain good, and the storm would come again far too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else feel like Jughead in the actual show could have bulimia  
> bc it's a headcannon of mine (half bc of my own bulimia and being a male w an ED) but also bc he has the characteristics n the behaviors  
> -also we need more male representation of EDs


	21. Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead is back at school.

Going back to school wasn’t difficult at all, he had honestly found it relieving to have something to do, just to get his mind off of food. It seemed he was still terribly hungry, but it had slowed down just a bit. It was awkward coming back, but much welcomed to everyone he knew. They were mainly relieved to know he was still alive.   
Eating wasn't an issue at school it seemed. He had food available to him, and he wasn't puking. To most others, he seemed fine, other than the fact that he was still terribly thin.   
Jughead knew it wasn't over, no matter how much he wished it was. He knew he'd fall back once something happened. It was how he coped.   
He was in the student lounge, waiting for Archie. They started to meet more often as their relationship had become public. At first most of those who were based at Riverdale High didn’t find it ideal, and those from Southside either, but they grew to tolerate it. It was something odd.   
He was met with Sweet Pea instead, who seemed surprised to see him.  
“You’re back soon.” Sweet Pea observed. Jughead shrugged, and Archie walked in soon after. He walked straight back to the couch where Jughead sat, and in silence put his arms around Jughead, to comfort him.  
“It gets boring at home, y’know.” Jughead remarked. He knew it was another confrontation, a weird one, but it most definitely was one.   
“Are you better now? With the whole eating thing?” Sweet Pea asked. It seemed the lounge was terribly empty at the moment, which Jughead found relieving with any confrontation.  
“Oh...no, I don’t think it’ll be any better for a long time.” Jughead explained. He watched Sweet Pea’s expression drop, and it broke his own heart knowing it was his doing, but he couldn’t liewith empty promises.   
“Are you at least trying?” Sweet Pea asked and Jughead let out a slight chuckle.  
“It’s almost as if you care about me, Sweet Pea.” Jughead remarked, and he watched Sweet Pea’s cheeks flush red from embarrassment.   
“I just… don’t want to you to end up dead, you know.” Sweet Pea flustered and then left swiftly. Jughead turned to Archie, and pecked his cheek.  
“How did it go without me?” Jughead asked. The atmosphere was still just as awkward, and terribly quiet.  
“Awkward, like really awkward.” Archie explained as the bell rang, signifying that they needed to go to class. Jughead broke their touch and left to Geometry, which he dreaded.   
The minute he walked in, whispers broke. He walked to the seat in front of Kevin.  
“Dude, everyone thought you were dead.” Kevin told him. He noticed the stares in the room seemed to progressively all fall onto him.  
“I did to, but, here I am.” Jughead told Kevin, and started to try to catch up with work. He was terribly behind already. His head seemed terribly foggy, and he knew why, but it wasn’t going away anytime soon.   
The other classes were the same, decently boring and hard to keep focus in. He could tell the fog had grown terrible. He was still sick, terribly so.  
School seemed uneventful, especially for coming back, and when he went home, nothing had changed. Archie had come with him, as he didn’t want to be alone; It would be a mess.  
“Sorry to drag you along like this, I just, I really can’t be alone.” Jughead apologized, and Archie grabbed his hand as they walked in.  
“It’s ok, I don’t have anything else to do anyway.” Archie told him, and Jughead sat on the couch, his legs terribly tired. His body seemed to still be going through the whole hypermetabolism thing that the nurse warned him about.   
“Do you understand anything about the whole trig thing?” Jughead asked, trying to catch himself up in Geometry. He wasn’t keen on falling behind in school again.  
“I’m probably more confused than you.” Archie explained, and Jughead chuckled.  
“I seriously doubt that.” Jughead reassured him. He moved on to work on his school work, just enough so that he would not fall behind. Archie asked questions, Jughead answered. It was a lengthy dynamic, until Jughead’s stomach protested. He stopped and looked to Archie.  
“I want food.” Jughead said. He noticed Archie agreeing, so they got up and walked to the kitchen. He scoured the fridge and found some ice cream, which came up easy.  
He needed to find something to puke, he was losing it.  
“Dad bought ice cream, I guess, do you want some?” Jughead asked and Archie nodded. They grabbed bowls and created ice cream creations, which were elaborate, as they tended to be. Jughead knew he’d be puking this up, and it came up fast, far quicker than anything else.   
They sat down and started to eat. Jughead ate far quicker than Archie, hoping it would help get everything up. It seemed he kept making the empty promise that he’d stop. He knew he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t.  
Jughead got up and swiftly went to the bathroom. He made sure to move fast, knowing if he spent too much time in the bathroom, someone would know.  
The everso familiar white toilet bowl stared back at him, and he sighed. He couldn’t back out now, so he leaned over the bowl and pressed on his stomach, which would create a silent purge.  
It seemed to all just slide out, like liquid. The acid mixed with the food, just as expected, it came out quickly. He quickly recomposed himself and washed his mouth out. It was just as it used to be, and he could feel the addiction begin to plant itself again.   
Jughead got back to the kitchen, and it seemed just in time. Archie had finished his own bowl and just a swift second later Cheryl had burst into the door, about the raid that Sheriff Minetta had planned. It wasn’t shocking to either Archie or Jughead, and they ran.  
It wasn’t the hardest thing they had to do, they ran the Serpents out to Fred’s house, to try and save the Serpents.  
They ended up at Archie’s, and were starting to set up mattresses for those who need them. It was chaos, but it was organized chaos. Jughead could barely find time to breath, and he could feel the same odd rhythm to his heart, just as it had been before the hospital.   
He was on Archie’s bed, and Archie was bringing up water for both of them. His legs were terribly weak now, especially as he had no chance to replenish anything.  
He was startled by a knock on the door, and Archie walked in.  
“Here’s for the bit of extra cardio just now, especially unprepared.” Archie said as he sat on the bed, and handed Jughead his glass.  
“I’m not really cut out for cardio, you can tell.” Jughead said as he sipped from the glass. The water soothed his still aching throat.  
“You’ll get there.” Archie reassured him, but all it did was cause Jughead to let out a slight laugh in his glass, spitting some of the water on himself.  
“Nice joke, but being in your shape, it’s an unachievable dream.” Jughead remarked, and Archie put his glass down.  
“Will you go back to the trailer or stay here?” Archie asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“Do you mind if I stay here, I’m not sure if I want to go back, or even have the energy.” Jughead explained, already on the verge of falling asleep. He curled up next to Archie, his eyelids heavy.  
He eventually ended up asleep, his heart still beating in that weird rhythm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, it's been crazy with circus and work and cosplay.


	22. Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Serpents are at Archie's

Jughead awoke in a heap of blankets on Archie’s bed, he was still curled up as he had been the night before. It wasn’t a comfortable way to sleep, that was for sure. He looked over to see Archie asleep beside him, pretty much in the same position he was in last night, so they had both fallen asleep pretty soon after getting to Archie’s place.  
“Arch?” Jughead asked, his voice cracking. He could tell the night before had taken a toll on him.  
“What’s up Jug?” Archie asked, and Jughead sat up in the bed.  
“How long was I asleep?” Jughead asked. He could hardly remember falling asleep. Archie shrugged and checked his phone for time.  
“It’s nine in the morning, we should probably help feed the serpents.” Archie explained. Jughead had almost forgotten about the fact that all the Serpents were in the living room. He took a deep breath.  
“How would we do that?” Jughead asked. He got up and started to regain his balance. The whole puking situation the day before was definitely not ideal. It had left his body shaken and confused.  
“Dad went to get food earlier, and we’ll have to help make some stuff.” Archie explained and got up as well, so they could help out the lost Serpents in the living room.  
“I really don’t know how to cook anything, are you sure?” Jughead asked, and Archie let out a chuckle.  
“I find it funny how you, out of everyone, doesn’t know how to cook.” Archie pointed and Jughead cracked a smile.  
“What? Because I’m bulimic?” Jughead retorted. Humor was the way he tended to cope with himself, and Archie understood.  
“I mean, c’mon, do you just eat lame, shit food?” Archie asked, and Jughead nodded. He was laughing now, only slight, but it was most definitely a laugh.  
“Why do you think I’m always in Pop’s? It’s cheap, and the bathrooms are nice.” Jughead told him. They got to the living room and a few of the Serpents were up, calling people or just hanging. Jughead could tell Archie was slightly uncomfortable, but not as bad as it was a few months ago. Jughead could understand why, as having a bunch of strangers in his own house would be uncomfortable as well.   
They explained what was happening, and that there would be food available soon. It was an awkward wait, but once Fred showed up at the door, excitement began to murmur through the Serpents. Jughead and Archie went into the kitchen and helped set up the small grills and plates, and they began to make and serve food for all the Serpents. Fred made the food, Jughead and Archie served the food, and Jughead ate a bit of the burnt eggs on the side. It was odd, how much it had all changed, and he wasn’t sure if he had even flushed the toilet the night before.  
He was screwed if he didn’t.  
There seemed organized chaos in the Andrews’ house, and the only one missing was his dad.  
It wasn’t long till Jughead spotted his dad storming into the house, straight towards him. It was, most likely, about the night before. He took a deep breath, and braced himself for the wrath.  
“Why didn’t you call before you…?” FP asked, his voice pierced Jughead.   
“If you couldn’t tell, I was a little busy.” Jughead remarked, hoping to talk his way out of it. He knew it was risky.  
“Jug, I know this isn’t easy. I know it isn’t, but to help, I need to know what’s going on. You promised to stop keeping me in the dark.” FP said, and he placed his hands on Jughead’s shoulders, just to make sure all the concentration wasn’t lost.  
“I was going to, but Minetta decided to raid the Wyrm, and I fell asleep at Archie’s.” Jughead explained, he could tell it was all just pulling him deeper into a hole.  
“Look I’m sorry. I just...I want to help. I can’t watch you almost die again.” FP said, his voice low, and it cracked numerous times.  
“Dad, it’s ok, you’ve done so much for me. I’ll try to be honest.” Jughead said, and then FP grabbed a plate Jughead had made and went to talk with the other Serpents, While Jughead kept eating the eggs that Fred would burn.  
Once every serpent had eaten, and Archie as well. Jughead had eaten quite a few eggs by the time they finished. The Serpents remained in Archie’s house, and Jughead left with Archie and Vegas. They couldn’t remain there for the time being, it was just far too chaotic.   
They were walking Vegas down the street, and it seemed spring was on the horizon, as the March weather had warmed.  
“Will you stop Jug? You really worry me sometimes.” Archie asked and Jughead shrugged. He knew he was stuck.   
“I don’t know, it’s all just falling and climbing. I don’t seem to have control anymore.” Jughead said. He knew it was terrible, but at this point it seemed normal, especially to him. He had normalized puking, and it had backfired. They walked for quite some time, silent, as no one knew what to say.  
“What is it like? Eating without care?” Jughead asked, and Archie was surprised by the question.  
“It’s just...eating. I can’t explain.” Archie told him, and he sighed.  
“That’s it, you see, my mind can’t get off of food. It seems I’m just addicted, and I probably don’t know how to eat.” Jughead said. He knew that eating like a person would never happen, his thoughts would remain just as lost.   
“I never figured it was like that, it makes sense now.” Archie said. They turned around and began the walk back to Archie’s house. They discussed a bit as they walked back. The warm air had made everything bearable, especially hard conversations.   
They walked back into a house that was slightly emptier, and Jughead assumed they went to different places. It was an odd morning. Jughead knew that these mornings usually ended up with his head in the toilet, but he was determined to stay clean for the day.  
His dad finding out always broke his heart.  
They helped clean the dishes and the floor, but it seemed as Jughead leaned over, he ended up puking on the floor, which he knew meant he had gone too far too return. He quickly cleaned his mess and as he was washing his mouth in the bathroom, he knew he had to tell his dad, so he quickly called him.  
“Hey, um... I just puked,” Jughead said. He heard an audible sigh, so he knew he had to interject. “I mean, it wasn’t my doing, I leaned over and it just...came out.” Jughead explained.  
“Is it that bad?” FP asked.   
“Yeah, it’s medical as well now, I can’t keep doing this.” Jughead told him.  
“We have an appointment in a couple days, mandatory after the hospital, you can tell them.” FP told him.  
“I can’t...they’ll just try to send me away, especially because I’ve not really gained anything.” Jughead whispered, his voice sharp.  
“It’ll be fine, I promise. You just worry about getting better.” FP told him, and Jughead sighed. He looked back at the toilet bowl and remembered all the burnt eggs he ate.   
He put the toilet bowl up and he puked again.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead does some stuff

Jughead wasn’t dreading the follow-up appointment, but he was nervous. The day had come far too soon, and he wasn’t ready. He could barely open up to his dad about anything, so opening up to a stranger seemed almost impossible.   
The wait had proven to be terribly hard, and he could feel his palms begin to sweat as he was awaiting his name to be called. His dad was beside him, just as nervous. They remained silent, as the entire situation was far too intense to even comprehend.  
It seemed an eternity before his name was called.  
“Jughead Jones.” A nurse called, whom he instantly recognized as the same one who was with his dad during the first time he had landed himself in the hospital. He got up.  
“Are you coming along?” Jughead asked.   
“Do you want me to?” FP asked him and Jughead shook his head.  
“Not particularly, I shouldn’t be long.” Jughead said and walked to the nurse, who gave a terribly fake smile.   
“How are you today?” She asked as they walked through a long winding hallway. He could feel his heart rate pick up, from what, he didn’t know, it could’ve been for many things.  
“Fine, I guess.” He told her. Small talk wasn’t something he enjoyed, it created awkward silences for far too long. They kept walking until they got to a scale, and he knew what it was. He wasn’t sure if he could face it at all, the number. It was most definitely going up. He knew that, but it was the uncertainty of how much that terrified him.  
“We’ll need to get your weight again,” She explained and Jughead sighed. He stepped on the scale and tried to look away. He knew he’d be disappointed either way. The nurse looked behind him to see the number. “129 pounds.” She said, before realizing she shouldn’t have said the number out loud. Jughead could feel his heart crush. It wasn’t that he cared about weight, but he did, he knew he did and it broke him. He had gained weight, more than he had expected. He could feel an anger start to burn, a foreign anger. He was pissed at himself, for what? Getting better?  
They walked into a room, terribly white. He was told to sit as the nurse took his blood pressure and vitals. It seemed it was all normal, at least the lower end of normal. He knew he should be relieved that he wasn’t dying, but all he could think about was how he had somehow gained 20 pounds.   
“Everything looks fine, heart rate’s still just a bit slow, but a lot better than it once was.” The nurse explained. She then left, leaving him alone for a bit before a doctor would come in. The waiting was painful, terribly long, and painful. He kept picking at a scab on his knuckles to entertain him. His only thought was 129, and how terribly it settled.  
The doctor eventually walked in, interrupting Jughead’s thoughts. The air seemed to grow stale as he did.  
“Jughead, how are you?” He asked as he sat down. Jughead shrugged.  
“Fine, a little tired.” Jughead said.   
“Everything seems fine with your vitals, and you’ve gained weight. You’re no longer at risk. It all comes down to behaviors.” The doctor told him.  
“What? Comes down to what?” Jughead asked.   
“Inpatient.” The doctor said, and Jughead’s face went white. He had already said no, and it wouldn’t change. He knew it would tear everything he fought for.  
“I already said no, my dad said no. I won’t go.” Jughead said, his voice firm, hoping it would solidify the choice. He knew there would be a fight.  
“Have you been purging? Binging? Restricting?” The doctor asked, and Jughead, who was now terribly pissed and petty, shrugged.  
“Yeah.” He said. He began to pick at the scabs on his knuckles again, hoping to provoke a reaction.  
“To what?” The doctor asked, his voice most definitely provoked. Jughead cracked a smile, as it had worked.  
“All of it. Puking left and right, you know. You know that Pop’s burgers aren’t terrible coming back up.” Jughead remarked, his lips in a smirk.  
“Maybe inpatient is a good idea, especially for you.” The doctor said. Jughead could tell that he was now fully irritated with his antics. His lips remained in the same smirk, proud.  
“You’d have to get through all the Serpents, get them to speak before even talking to my dad. Good luck.” Jughead remarked and left the room. He could tell that left the doctor both frustrated. Exactly how he wanted it.  
He walked back to the waiting room after checking out and to his dad, who met him to walk out.  
“How’d it go?” FP asked him. Jughead shrugged.  
“I don’t think we’ll need to come back. I also gained weight.” Jughead said and FP smiled, but Jughead could tell he was confused.  
“They said it was every three months?” He asked and Jughead shrugged.  
“They threatened inpatient again, so I was just petty. He just wanted money.” Jughead explained. He watched satisfaction creep across his dad’s face.  
“Usually that’s terrible, but I hated him, he really tried to push shit you didn’t need. I’m proud of you boy,” He said as they got onto their bikes. “How much did you gain?” He asked, suddenly. Jughead’s heart dropped.  
“I’m 129 now, shocking I know.” Jughead said, and they biked back home. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself, and the weight thing seemed to bother him far less, at least for the time being.  
When they got home, the tension that used to fill the air had dropped, except for the weight thing. It had begun to seep into his head again. He wasn’t sure if he was still bothered by it, but the thought was there. It always seemed to be in the back of his mind.  
Jughead sat on the couch and started up his laptop, hoping to get some form of writing done as a way to distract himself.   
“Hey Jug, you hungry?” FP asked. Jughead wasn’t sure if he could eat, not that soon after what had happened.   
“Not really.” He said and kept writing. He wanted food, but there was something blocking him.   
“You sure?” FP asked and Jughead could feel the chaos begin to stir in his head.  
“I don’t know.” Jughead said, his voice wavering. He knew FP had heard it.  
“You ok boy?” FP asked. Jughead hesitated, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say anything about it, as his dad seemed proud.  
“It bothers me.” Jughead told him, his voice terribly quiet. FP turned to face him.  
“What?” FP asked.  
“You said to be honest, so I’ll be honest. The weight thing, I can’t get it out of my head.” Jughead said. He could feel his heart rate pick up again.  
“Is it that bad? I thought you didn’t care.” FP asked. He walked over to the couch, just to be there if Jughead needed it.  
“I didn’t think I’d feel this terrible, but it’s as if I’m angry? At myself for this, yet logically I know this should be a good thing. I’m not dying anymore, and I’m angry at myself for it.” Jughead explained, his voice cracked, which meant tears were soon to follow.  
“Jug…” FP said, he was at a loss, and Jughead could tell, but it didn’t matter. He could feel a weight lifted off of his chest as he spoke. The thoughts were in the open.   
“I can’t keep doing this, dad. I keep falling back, getting better, falling back again. It’s as if it never goes away.” Jughead spoke through the beginnings of sobs. FP put his arms around Jughead, hoping to comfort him.  
“I know, I know. You’re strong Jug, you’ll pull through,” FP said, and then he got up and walked back to the kitchen, as he had to finish making the food. “You sure you’re not hungry?” FP asked again, and Jughead sighed.  
“I’ll try.” He said and his heart jumped.


	24. Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie is arrested

Archie had won the election, and Jughead was proud, even with the tension between families. It all seemed almost normal, even Jughead, he had seemed to stop behaviors almost completely, with the exception of a few slip-ups. He had even gained to almost where he had been before it had gotten bad. 149, which was completely normal for six feet, which he found weird. His clothes fit, he stopped waking up in sweat. It seemed everything was ok. He had even seen a dentist, and gotten some of his teeth fixed.  
Almost too much so.  
Jughead awoke in the bed again, which he still felt terrible for, but Archie was laying in his arms. That made his mood instantly seem to lift. He slammed his hand on the alarm and woke Archie, whom he realized could sleep through anything. Archie awoke soon after and looked into Jughead’s eyes, as Jughead was overhead of him.  
“Good morning princess.” Jughead remarked and then rolled out of the bed and started to get dressed. Archie rolled his eyes and sat up in the sheets. The two had ended up sleeping in just their boxers, which wasn’t unusual as the weather had warmed up. It was the late spring weather, warm, but not terribly hot.   
Jughead could feel Archie watching him get dressed, his cheeks grew red, especially as he wasn’t used to anyone seeing his body. It didn’t help that he was still not used to it not being terribly thin.  
“You know, you look so much better like this.” Archie observed, as he noticed the lines on Jughead’s stomach, they weren’t bones this time, but muscle lines, something Jughead never thought he’d have a body even close to Archie’s, which was a body he always found perfect.  
“Thanks, especially coming from someone with your abs,” Jughead explained as he pulled a shirt over his torso. He looked over. “Shouldn’t you at least put some pants on? We’ve got 20 minutes until we have to go.” Jughead remarked and pulled his jacket over his back, to finish off what he seemed to wear daily. Archie got up and pulled the clothes he had worn yesterday back onto his body.   
Jughead went to make breakfast, which was just the usual of dry cereal. Archie followed and poured a bowl as well. They ate quickly, as they had just a few minutes. FP was asleep on the couch, Archie and Jughead snuck out, hoping to not wake him.   
They got to school, which was in a very different hype. It was the day that Archie became the president, and there would be a whole celebration for it. The student lounge was in full hype as they walked in, but mainly just the usual banter.   
Hiram, Jughead and Archie, old stories, and other small town banter.  
“How does it feel?” Veronica asked Archie.  
“What does?” Archie asked. His hand was interlocked with Jughead’s.  
“Being the president? It’s kind of a big role.” She stated and he shrugged.  
“It’s nothing crazy, it’s just for school.” Archie explained. He seemed almost bombarded with questions about it, until the bell rang for first period. They wouldn’t be in the gym until third.  
Jughead was still trying to catch up in the first two periods, especially in geometry, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t hard at all, just a lot of work.   
Third period came, everyone went to the gym and sat in the bleachers. Jughead went and found Archie and the others as soon as he walked in. He remembered the last time they had all been in the gym was the day after Jason’s body was found, and it seemed so far away. He still assumed he was straight at that point, which he found quite hilarious. The noise seemed neverending, people finding their friends, relieved to not be in class.  
“Hey Jug.” Betty said, hoping to get his attention. He turned, but his hand remained on Archie’s.   
“Yeah, what’s up?” He asked. The dynamic of the four had finally healed. It loosened the tension that held anyone from closing off.  
“I think it’s all going to be ok with my mom, at least for now.” She told him.   
“Are you sure? It seemed things were off when I was over.” He asked and she nodded.  
“Yeah, it took quite some time, but it should be ok.” She told him, before everyone went quiet for the national anthem.  
He noticed, as it was being sung, something in the corner of his eye. It looked almost as if it was Hiram, with a terribly smug expression on his face. Then, almost too fast, Minetta walked into the gym with handcuffs in his hands.   
He headed straight towards Archie, and Jughead tried to shoot up, but Betty held him down. They couldn’t speak, no one could. Jughead’s ears seemed to ring terribly loud and once he looked back, he saw Archie walking out in handcuffs. His eyes were lost, afraid. They haunted Jughead, who reached out towards him. His heart was racing, and tears began to fall down his face. They were uncontrolled. He couldn’t find any.  
Archie was gone, just after it had all calmed down.  
Now it was all falling to pieces.  
He ran towards the hallway where Archie was, hoping to say anything.   
“Arch.” He yelled, knowing Archie couldn’t respond, but he kept yelling, hoping he would be heard. He could feel his fingers tremble. It all crashed down in a single moment.  
He ran towards the bathroom in the back of the school, where no one could find him in all the chaos. The one he always used. Everything began to flood back to him. The many times he’d puked in the same stall. The times that Archie had caught him, the nights they spent together in Archie’s room. Last night in the trailer. He felt it was all too fast again.  
Just when things got better, they grew worse.  
He closed himself off into the last stall, the blue door haunted him. He put the toilet seat up and lean over the bowl. He shoved his fingers in his throat and puked. The only way he knew how to cope, as sick as he felt it was. He had no other way of dealing with himself and everything around him.  
The familiar taste of acid remained in his throat. It was terribly sour, just as he remembered. He couldn’t find the strength to get up, his legs had given out from underneath him.  
He could hear a few footsteps running towards the bathroom. Someone knew, but it didn’t bother him anymore, everyone knew.  
“Jughead?” He heard Kevin shout. Out of everyone he knew, it was Kevin who’d find him like this. Not Fangs, not Sweet Pea, but Kevin. He heard the footsteps close in on the stall. He tried to speak, but nothing came from his throat. The door opened, as he had forgotten to lock it. He looked up to find not only Kevin, but Sweet Pea and Betty as well. They all looked terribly concerned.  
“Out of all the people I expected, this is a rather odd combo.” He remarked, and Betty helped him to his feet. They were silent as he washed himself up, but they remained in the room, making sure he was ok. Sweet Pea even seemed slightly concerned. They walked him back to the student lounge, and everyone else seemed to be in class.  
“Jug…” Betty said, her voice sinking. He looked up.  
“I can’t lose him, I won’t, not like my dad.” He told her, his voice wavering, as he was choked up by his own tears.  
“We’ll get him out, it’s a false accusation.” Betty tried to reassure him, but nothing was helping. It was all too familiar to what had happened with his dad.  
“It’s just like with my dad. He was almost gone for good. It’s just what Hiram wants, to seperate us. He doesn’t care about the cost.” Jughead said, his voice starting to find itself again.  
“We’ll take him down, the Serpents need him gone anyway.” Sweet Pea remarked.  
“And how? He has money, and we, well, what do we have? No more Wyrm, your leader is a bulimic mess, and we’re broke.” Jughead remarked. The silence remained, and it haunted him. No one knew what to say. It was all too real. Archie was gone, just like that.   
Everything had fallen to pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait, I've been busy  
> also yes this is still during the season finale


	25. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead deals with Archie's arrest

Jughead ended up going home early, he had every permission to do so, and it was all he wanted to do. His head couldn’t wrap around what had happened, it seemed only that morning they were in the same bed, skin touching skin. It was now torn, as if their skin had been ripped from each other.   
He knew nothing would be as it was, and the whole concept of recovering seemed a lost cause.   
He was alone when he got home. It seemed that it was just as dangerous as it used to be. He tried for as long as he could to ignore the urge, but as the situation kept sinking into relapse, he lost the will.  
All his work started to fall.  
There was food in the kitchen, and he couldn’t seem to find any sense of control to stop it; his heart only sank as he thought of Archie. It was as if someone was trying to rip them apart.  
He knew who.  
Jughead began to eat what he had gathered, and as he did, his entire mind spilt out.  
Archie was gone, Hiram was the one behind it. He was trying to tear them apart. Everything seemed to fall as soon as it got better. He had almost survived long enough to feel at least the tiniest bit normal.  
But everything was gone, so what was the point in getting better. There was no comfort in it anyway.  
He cleaned up the mess he had made and headed into the bathroom. It was such a familiar motion, and his body seemed to remember everything as clear as day, as if he hadn’t spent the past month almost behavior free.   
He leaned over the toilet and took a deep breath. The odd pain was something he never looked forward to, but he stuck his finger down his throat anyway and puked what he could. He had never felt such relief. He puked again, to get the rest of it out. He took a few deep breaths and cleaned himself up. His fingers trembled, and his knuckles were white again.  
It was as if nothing had changed.  
Jughead spent the evening secluded, writing, as he wasn’t sure what to do without Archie. He had no energy to try and take Hiram Lodge down at the moment. The trailer seemed empty, far worse than it usually was. The absence was seeping into every aspect of his life already, and he wasn’t sure if he could tell anything to his dad.  
Of course only if he didn’t already know.  
The door opened, and to no surprise, FP walked in. Jughead was startled by the sudden noise.  
“Jug?” FP asked, and Jughead closed his laptop. His heart was still pounding from being startled, but it was still odd. It was slow, and it seemed to skip beats every now and again.  
“Yeah, what’s up?” Jughead asked. The tremor in his fingers had passed now, but his knuckles were still terribly white.  
“I brought dinner.” FP told him, and he sighed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat, especially not after what had happened earlier, but he knew he had no choice, so he walked into the kitchen and observed what had been brought. It was just some stuff from Pop’s.   
That terrified him. He hadn’t kept anything from Pop’s down in years.  
He was willing to try, so he grabbed a plate and put something on. He could feel his heart begin to speed up, mainly from anxiety.  
“Archie got arrested.” Jughead mentioned casually, hoping no more questions asked. He started to eat what food he had in front of him. He could tell that puking this up for years was having an affect on the way it went down. His stomach almost seemed to reject it immediately.  
“Wait? For what?” FP asked, shocked.   
“He’s being framed for a murder...by, get this, Hiram Lodge.” Jughead explained, and took another bite. The puke seemed to rise, or at least he felt terribly unwell. Nauseous and sick, unable to keep it down.  
“That beast,” FP seemed to hiss under his breath. “How are you holding up?” He asked, his expression grew concerned. Jughead’s eyes widened as he went through the day. Two times, he had puke two times, binged and purged once and then just purged. He had, in just a few hours, ruined everything he had worked for.  
“I...I” Jughead started, but he couldn’t get his words out. He looked down, the food now piling up in his throat, at least that’s how he swore it felt.  
“You puke didn’t you, I can tell by your face.” FP said, his voice began to raise. Jughead knew he was mad again. His eyes seemed to be on fire, and it always seemed to terrify Jughead. He knew it was because he cared, but it still caused fear all the same.  
“I did. Please...don’t be mad, it was in the moment, and I could barely think.” Jughead rambled on, he was hoping it would clear the air, but it seemed it had opened another door, and it didn’t help that he was basically fighting himself to keep the puke down.  
“And the first thing you do is...puke? Were the last few months for nothing? I can’t watch you fall again.” FP told him, his voice was still rising. It seemed the puke in Jughead’s stomach was to, and he still wasn’t sure if it was real.  
“Look, I’m sorry. I was trying, I really was. It’s like the other slip-ups, I promise, I won’t get bad again.” Jughead reassured him, but he knew he was lying. There was no way he could just live on. He knew it was all falling.  
“You better promise, and I know you’ll slip up...I’m sorry, it’s just overwhelming.” FP told him, and he nodded.  
“On that note, I actually feel sick...from the food, so please don’t yell at me if I do puke right now.” Jughead explained, hoping to rid the feeling he had, as it had risen far too much.  
“I really hope you’re not lying boy, but go ahead.” He said, and Jughead quickly got up and went into the bathroom, where he leaned over the toilet and everything seemed to fall out. No effort at all, as he wasn’t even wanting to puke, it just happened. Autopilot for his body now.  
He cleaned himself up and walked back into the kitchen. He could see the terribly heartbroken expression of his dad, and it seemed to sink into his own soul.  
“I’m sorry.” He said and leaned against a wall, not wanting to sit down quite yet. They seemed silent for a bit, he could tell he was tearing both of them apart again, and it pulled at him. He walked into the living room.  
“By the way, Archie and I, we slept together last night.” Jughead said, hoping to clear the air.  
“Really? Safely?” FP asked and he nodded.  
“Don’t worry dad, I’m always careful.” He said, and cracked a smile.  
“Is this why it’s tearing you up like this?” FP asked, and Jughead nodded.  
“We had finally become everything we had wanted to, and Hiram tore it apart with one blow, and with that shit pawn, Minetta.” Jughead ranted as he turned his laptop on.  
“We’ll do everything we can to get him back, besides, it may end up like fangs. What charges can they keep him with?” FP explained, hoping to comfort Jughead, who was still terribly distraught.  
“I know, I know, but when? I haven’t gotten any response from Veronica, Betty, or anyone. Will it be tomorrow or a year from now? It’s as if Hiram is purposefully tearing us apart...For his plan.” Jughead explained.   
“We’ll see if we can do anything, I don’t like Hiram anymore than you do.” FP said, and the air seemed to clear a bit, as they were both on some form of the same page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had terrible writer's block, sorry it's kinda bad.


	26. Everlong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead copes with Archie's arrest terribly

Two weeks had passed since Archie had gotten arrested and everything seems to keep falling down and down. The hole never seemed to end. Jughead had found a way to hide the fact that he kept binging and purging from anyone he came across. The facade was something he couldn’t keep forever as soon his complexion would give everything away. He knew it would all unravel, but until then, he kept going to cope. It was all he seemed to do.  
Everything had fallen just as it had risen.  
School was always rough, and it seemed today was just as rough. He had fallen asleep in second period, and again in third. He couldn’t seem to care. It seemed he lost any motivation for school, or anything at all.  
Archie was his one hope recovering, and now he was gone, in the hands of Hiram and broken.  
He headed back to the one lone bathroom, the one that was always empty, and locked himself in a stall. It was all just like it once was. The blue walls seemed so comforting, terribly so. The familiarity of the place, and how it went from a place of escape, to fear, and now it was a place of solace.  
Where he could slowly kill himself in peace. He couldn’t go on without Archie.  
Jughead knew it was dramatic, but he always seemed to be dramatic with anything. It was part of his nature.   
He locked himself into the stall and leaned over the toilet. His heart began to beat faster as he did so. He wretched a bit and then shoved his fingers into his throat and puked, once, and twice. He hated it, all of it. The pain that came afterwards seemed worse than the pain during, but it was all just business.   
Footsteps seemed to resonate in the halls. They startled Jughead as he got up and walked to wash his mouth out. If someone found him, he wouldn’t be bothered at all. He washed the bitter taste from his mouth and went to walk out of the bathroom when he was suddenly stopped in the doorway by Toni, of all people.  
“You were doing it again? Weren’t you.” She observed and Jughead shrugged.  
“Yeah, but why does it matter?” Jughead said. He was apathetic, nothing mattered, at all.   
“Jughead, it may seem like nothing matters, at all. Your boyfriend’s in jail, you’re relapsing full-force. I understand, but it can’t keep going on...not like this.” She said. Jughead could hear the break in her voice, the pain. He looked down.  
“Nothing seems to matter anyway, so please, let me get to last period.” Jughead explained, and Toni shook her head. She cornered Jughead, awaiting answers.  
“I care, everyone cares...you’re the one not caring. If Archie gets out, and you’re dead?” She explained and it struck Jughead, as he knew it would probably end up being just a bit before Archie got out, and he knew he was falling fast.  
He knew the first time around, he was lucky to be alive. It seemed to be the same a second time as well.  
His body wouldn’t put up the same fight as the first time; it never did. If he would go down, it’d be fast, swift, and painful.  
“I know. I know, and I know how terrible it all is, but again, I can’t stop it seems, this thing, it seemed to have happened so fast, and I’m stuck. It’s like I’m addicted again.” Jughead explained. He could feel himself breaking. He had been so apathetic that even emotion was unable to phase him.  
“Please, at least for Archie, try and stop. You were doing well for a bit, I saw it, the life in your eyes, but it seemed to have gone just as it had started.” Toni told him and then left, which released him from the corner. He caught his breath and grabbed his bag from the cafeteria before heading to fourth period.   
He walked in late, his knuckles white and his vision blurry. It wasn’t too blurry, just blurry enough to agitate him. He ended up sleeping through the period and when the bell rang, he dragged himself out of the classroom. His body felt heavy, and he almost fell into Fangs as he walked through the halls. He wasn’t aware he had until he felt Fangs’ hands, which were uncharacteristically strong, yet soft.   
“Woah, Jughead, you ok?,” Fangs asked, and he helped Jughead find balance. Jughead looked up and rushed past him, hoping there would be no other words exchanged, but he was pulled back, as Fangs’ was far stronger than him. “Seriously Jughead.” He said.  
“I’m fine, I just woke up.” Jughead said, and kept walking. He could tell Fangs knew, which started to haunt him as well. He wasn’t sure why, but what Toni had told him seemed to resonate. He wasn’t keen on being dead when Archie got out.  
He biked home, as nothing else seemed to be going on at the time. He was supposed to meet with Betty later for a project, but he seemed he had no motivation.   
The trailer was empty for the time being, and he found it comforting. He assumed he could find enough time to at least binge and purge again before his dad got home.  
It was risky, but he couldn’t get the thought to leave, unless he acted on it.  
It was casual, just a basic eat everything and then puke behind the trailer, as no one seemed to look there, then throw the puke bag into the trash can and clean himself up inside. He ended up writing afterwards, as it was normal, and no one would suspect anything happened.   
FP got home eventually, and he had brought food, again. It terrified Jughead, as he wasn’t sure he could even keep anything down at the moment. His heart shattered at the thoughts.   
He wasn’t ready to die, not with Archie in his life, and his dad.   
“How you holding up?” FP asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“Fine, tired, but fine.” Jughead told him, not looking up from the screen.  
“You look dead again.” FP observed and put some of the food in the fridge.  
“Yeah.” Jughead spoke, and kept his eyes on the screen.  
“You’re doing something again. I can tell by your skin.” FP told him. Jughead looked up.  
“Why does it matter?” Jughead asked. He hoped nothing would be suspicious, but then everything would be suspicious. He wasn’t helping himself, and he knew that.  
“Boy. I swear. If you’re doing anything.” FP said, his voice began to raise.   
“I’m just not sleeping well. It’s kind of hard when the person you love ends up in jail.” Jughead explained and FP sighed.  
“Does that explain the way your cheeks are swollen again...Look I know you’re doing it, and I don’t know what to do anymore, I’ve tried everything.” FP said, his voice breaking. Jughead hated the pain that it caused him to hear the way this affected others, but it seemed he couldn’t stop.  
“Look it’s just, Archie, and all this. I’m just...stuck.” Jughead explained.   
“Well, what do you want me to do?” FP asked, his voice terribly frustrated.   
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Jughead said, his voice now quiet. He walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, hoping he could maybe find the courage to eat again.   
He hated lying to himself, as food tasted good, and it wasn’t something he could hate. Keeping it down, that was another thing he found nice, but it rarely happened.  
He was alone, the soft skin of Archie’s was now gone, his own body cold, the bed empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been busy, sorry  
> It's kinda bad but I hope that's ok


	27. Floating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead deals with a few health effects.

Jughead awoke in the bed. He wasn't clothed with the exception of some boxers. It was almost like that morning, except he missed the soft skin of Archie Andrews. It seemed he could barely go on. His relapse was just as bad, no one knew what to do. He was lost, unable to breath yet grasping for air.   
He had a will to live, to recover, but for some reason he couldn't, not yet.   
The morning was warm, the air officially reminded him of May, as the school year was coming to an end. It seemed almost insane to him, how fast everything had gone.   
Jason Blossom. Dead.   
Black Hood. Betty’s dad. A serial killer.   
Hiram Lodge. Buys the south side out.   
Archie Andrews. Wrongfully arrested.   
It was as if everything changed, and in the span of almost a year.   
Jughead rolled himself into the oddly cold sheets, hoping to waste some time before he had to get to school. He could feel the way the relapse had started to break him. It had only been a month and he was almost back to where he once was. Broken and unstable, as if the ground moved beneath his feet, so he would be unable to find his balance. He knew any slip up could be his last. He was aware how terribly painful it seemed to be. His breath seemed sharp, as if something stabbed his rib each time he inhaled. He was beginning to decay again, and he knew it.   
Jughead found the strength to get up, and so he got dressed and readied himself in the bathroom. He brushed through his hair, which had stopped thinning for the time being, but only because it had seemed to reset after the pseudo-recovery. It was ready to fall out again soon.   
His teeth, well, they were a mess. He found them rancid, almost too hard to look at. They were yellow, terribly so, and how it seemed they decayed, it pained Jughead. He knew they needed to be fixed, but he didn't really feel he should until he was sure of recovery. It would only create false hope and wasted cash. He did fear losing them, absolutely, but it still didn't help his decision towards recovery.   
Trudging towards the kitchen seemed treacherous. His body was terribly heavy, and it took all his effort to move. Eventually he did make it to the kitchen, and made himself the usual bowl of cereal, just as dry as it always was. His dad was still asleep, so he decided to just sneak out to get to school. It wasn’t uncommon, and he was able to do so without waking FP.  
He went to school shortly and walked into the doors. He still felt terribly empty. The longer that Archie remained gone, the further he fell. He felt so terribly lost. He walked into the student lounge, and found Betty.   
She had been the only one who seemed to know how bad it had gotten. He sat down beside her, hoping to vent even just a bit. He couldn’t keep it to himself, and his dad wasn’t around, as he had found extra work with Veronica, helping her set up the speakeasy. He was alone.  
“You look even worse than you did.” Betty observed and Jughead shrugged. He was so used to the comments, that nothing seemed to phase him.  
“I know. I’m aware I look dead.” Jughead said. He looked down, his fingers were trembling again.  
“I know Archie’s gone, but you, you just need to find a will in yourself.” Betty said, she had a sense of desperation in her voice, and it resonated in Jughead. He hated hurting others, especially those who were close to him.   
“It may seem crazy, I know, but I can’t, there’s nothing left.” He said. He could feel heat begin to collect on his cheeks, mainly from being confronted.   
“Have you ever thought about a therapist? It may be helpful.” She suggested and Jughead shook his head. He would be willing, but there was no way to pay expenses.   
“It’d be too expensive. I’ve already looked into it.” Jughead explained, defeated. He looked around and locked eyes with Sweet Pea again, who mouthed something to him, he assumed along the lines of “are you ok?” and he mouthed back a little “yes”, hoping to fool him. He didn’t enjoy it when Sweet Pea was concerned. He just found it quite weird coming from Sweet Pea.  
“The school counselor?” Betty suggested. Jughead chuckled.  
“She’s a joke, knows nothing of eating disorders, trust me, I’ve tried.” Jughead explained. He got flashbacks from when he was brought into the office, from concern from a teacher. She only asked about starving, and when realizing that he ate, but threw it up, she told him that nothing was wrong. He never went back.  
“Makes sense, but it was worth a try.” She told him, and then the bell got between them, so they rushed to their different classes. He was just as tired as he was right before he had landed himself in the hospital. He didn’t feel quite that bad, at least not yet, but he was waiting for it. It wasn’t that far away anymore. He did manage to stay awake for the entire morning, to his surprise, but he was still almost completely dissociated from the atmosphere. It was most unnerving when he walked, as if he was floating, and he wasn’t sure what he thought of it.  
It was a sign of destruction, he knew that.  
He had no energy to even attempt to binge and purge at lunch, like he usually did, and he didn’t sleep either, he was just stuck. He heard the voices of people around him, but they were oddly muffled, and his ears rang terribly, even as he walked back to class, and the only person who could even get a reaction from him was oddly Cheryl, at least at the moment. It was just something about the harshness of her voice that snapped him back.  
“It’s not my business to pry, but, are you ok? As a fellow Serpent, it’s only right to ask about your wellbeing.” Cheryl told him, her demeanor hadn’t changed, but this time Jughead wasn’t bothered. He knew she cared, and all it seemed to be was her upbringing.  
“I’m fine, there’s no need for concern.” He told her, hoping to just get her off of his back. He wasn’t ready to explain anything to her yet, as she knew as much as most others. He had bulimia.  
“Oh, well...I...you just seem distant, away from reality.” She told him and then walked away. He found it odd that she knew, and she knew more than anyone else. No one else knew he was dissociating, floating, but it seemed she did without even speaking to him, only with movement. It bothered him, and quite a bit.   
He walked out of the final period, just as floaty as he had gone in, his legs were still heavy, and it was worse now, as he hadn’t eaten since the bowl of dry as hell cereal from that morning. He hated it, all of it. The feelings, the pain, the way he couldn’t even keep touch with himself.  
He swore he was in a different dimension, and once he found his way back, Archie would be beside him, and everything would be normal.  
But it wasn’t, and he knew that, he was living in reality, and his disorder was the only thing he could use to escape. The floating, it felt as if he wasn’t in reality, which helped him forget about it.  
He met with Betty and Veronica outside. It had taken a bit, but he felt he was on ok terms with Veronica, as she had split from her dad, who was trying to destroy her life, along with her friends, including him.  
He was ready to puke on Hiram’s terribly expensive shoes if he ever saw Hiram again. It was the only good thing about having bulimia. Revenge and terrible pranks.  
“Jug, do you wanna go help Veronica clean up and renovate the speakeasy? Fred also offered, as well as your dad.” Betty asked and Jughead shrugged, not knowing what else he had to do. The school year was ending, finals were upon them, and he had nothing else to do but study, and it was still a few weeks away. He felt the distraction would be good.  
There was an odd pain in his head again, along with the floating, but he felt nothing of it. Pain was all too common now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> terrible writer's block sorry  
> also I'm super busy with work and circus, so like  
> yeah  
> (the floating is most definitely based on my own experiences with rock bottom)  
> it feels like a high, yet it's terrifying


	28. Awake (or Asleep)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew tries to help with the ole' speakeasy.

The speakeasy was a mess. Nothing seemed to have been cleaned since before Jughead was born. It was dusty, terribly so, and they all kept sneezing. He couldn't find any quiet through all the sound, and his head still hurt terribly. The floaty feeling was the same, it wasn’t as bad, but still prominent. He had grown used to it by now, unbothered. It seemed no one noticed, not even his dad, at least not yet. He was busy talking with Fred, catching up, which Jughead found relieving, as it stalled the looming confrontation, again. Every time he found himself in one of the confrontations, it was always awkward, terribly so.   
They somehow ended up getting a bit of it cleaned up, and started to get some of the items they salvaged from the Whyte Wyrm up on the wall. It wasn’t the same, of course, but they had a place, and it was hidden away from Hiram.   
The floaty feeling was back, and somehow stronger than earlier. FP had finally finished talking with Fred. Even now, Jughead was fascinated how people could reminisce so much over something as terrible as high school. He didn’t question it and sat on one of the old stools, and despite his miniscule weight, it creaked, which he knew was because the seat was old, but it still bothered him.  
The headache also grew worse, the ringing in his ears came back. He could feel himself lose balance from the chair and then he felt himself fall.  
He awoke later, his vision still slightly blurry and his body ached. He seemed unable to identify where he was for a bit, until he realized he was on the floor of the old speakeasy.  
“Jug, you ok?” FP asked him, and he looked over to see his dad’s face looking upon him, concern was plastered all over it.  
“Other than some bruising and pain, I think I’ll survive.” Jughead said and then started to get up. His back seemed more beat up than he had expected. He watched as Fred handed him an apple.  
“Eat it, you clearly need to.” He said and Jughead sighed. He didn’t want food, but with his dad pretty much a couple inches from him, he decided it was better to just suck it up.   
“How long was I out for?” Jughead asked. He noticed that nothing looked too different.  
“Just a few minutes.” Betty told him, He started to get up.  
“I can keep helping, that’s no problem.” Jughead told FP, but he was held down by FP’s hands.  
“No, we’ll go home for today, it’ll be better.” FP told him and he sighed.  
“Fine.” Jughead agreed and they walked up through Pop’s and mounted their bikes.  
The silence was unnerving, it meant that a storm was brewing.  
They got home and Jughead could already sense the tension brewing. He walked inside and laid himself on the couch.   
“Why didn’t you tell me you were full-on relapsing.” FP said, his voice surprisingly calm.  
“I never knew how to tell you…” Jughead lied.   
“No, seriously. Why?” FP asked, he was able to see through the lies that Jughead spouted at this point. It usually happened that way. He had learned more than he expected about how Jughead lied.  
“I didn’t want to stop. It’s like Archie was my reason to...as horrible as it sounds.” Jughead explained.  
“Look, I know it’s hard, but Jug...it’s just going to get worse from here if you don’t reach out.” FP said, and Jughead knew just by the sound of his voice, that he was in that same point of desperation that he had been in right before Jughead had his first brush with death.   
“To who? The school counselor is a joke, and therapists? Unlikely, especially for someone like me.” Jughead said.  
“I talked with the hospital again. They can help us find someone who’d be willing to work for less, at least for us. Besides, the speakeasy seems to be fine for income already.” FP told Jughead.  
“No. No, it won’t work. I know it won’t.” Jughead said. He wasn’t ready to get better, or even open up even more.   
“Boy, you have to try. I’m not letting you do this all again.” FP told him and Jughead sighed. At this point, arguing wasn’t worth it.   
“I guess so, did you already set up an appointment?” Jughead asked and FP nodded.   
“I thought it'd be best.” He explained. Jughead sighed.   
“When?” He asked.   
“Next week, Monday.” FP told him. He sighed again. Finals were pretty much set to start then and it really bothered him, as he was usually most stressed during that week.   
“During finals? Really?” Jughead asked, frustrated.   
“It was all I could do, especially after we tried recovery alone. I need someone who knows more to intervene.” FP explained.   
“I guess it makes sense.” Jughead said as he shrugged and the conversation ended for a bit. Jughead watched as his dad heated up food. The one thing he wasn't willing to face.   
“Hey, dad, I'm honestly not hungry right now. I haven't been able to eat all day. My stomach isn't cooperating.” Jughead said, hoping to get out of eating. It was the partial truth. He was surely sick, and food wasn't what he wanted to think about, but he also didn't want to eat all that much anyway.   
“Boy. If you puke, I don't care, but you need to eat more than cereal. You've lost so much weight already.” FP shouted. Jughead heard this often, far too often he assumed. The shouting never phased him. He sighed for a third time and walked towards the kitchen. He noticed it was just some stuff from Pop’s and a sad, but legit attempt at roasting vegetables. Jughead ate a couple fries and choked some of the veggies down before growing too sick to continue. He rushed into the bathroom and it all came back up, as if his body was rejecting the food. He was worse now, somehow. It seemed an almost impossible task, but he managed it.   
Jughead walked back into the kitchen and he looked his dad in the eyes.  
“I think my body is rejecting it. I can't seem to keep anything down. Nothing except dry cereal.” Jughead confessed. He wasn't sure why. It was as if it all came out.   
He had a will to live.   
“When did this start?” FP asked. Jughead could tell that the frustration ran high in the room.   
“Yesterday. I swear.” Jughead told FP.   
“You need to see someone, I’m not letting you die.” FP said and Jughead looked down to the ground, he felt his cheeks grow hot from shame.  
“I’m sorry. I really am, I never meant for it to get this bad.” Jughead apologized. FP was searching for something, probably just a cup, Jughead assumed.  
“No no no, this isn’t your fault. Hiram was behind Archie’s arrest, thus behind your relapse.” FP said and then he crushed some pills again, and filled a cup with water. He mixed the two and handed it to Jughead, who took it, but didn’t flinch.  
“Do I have permission to puke on Hiram’s shoes next time I see him?” Jughead asked, and FP cracked a smirk.  
“Only on his shoes boy,” FP said, and he gave Jughead a friendly bump on the shoulder. “Drink the water, I crushed up some potassium. It’s good for you.”   
Jughead couldn’t help but crack a smile as he drank the water.   
Even with everything falling apart, sometimes there were moments where he thought he could breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy  
> I'm gonna try to be more consistent, but with life  
> n circus  
> n relapse/recovery  
> it's gonna probably be real inconsistent  
> soz


	29. Barred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead visits Archie

Jughead’s first therapy session went well, nothing happened at all, just the basic intro questions and nothing else. The only thing they had suggested was to visit Archie, and maybe get more information.  
They wanted Archie with Jughead as much as everyone else.  
FP wasn’t for the idea, but he knew it would be beneficial.  
At the Sheriff’s office it seemed he was unwanted, and he knew he was. Minetta eyed him as he walked up.  
“What do you need, Jones?” Minetta asked, completely uninterested and frustrated.  
“I’m here to see Archie.” Jughead said. He could hear another audible sigh and then Minetta paged someone, and got an immediate response.  
“A deputy will shortly escort you. Don’t try anything, Jones.” Minetta said and went back to working. Jughead could feel his heartbeat, it was fast, terrifyingly so. He watched an old deputy walk beside him and wordlessly escorted him to a room that seemed to be the same as Betty had described her dad to be in. He could not bare it, the living conditions. He couldn’t imagine Archie in such a place. The deputy stayed by the door as he closed it, making sure nothing happened.  
“Archie?” Jughead asked, as he walked closer. Archie lifted his head, and the view shocked Jughead. Archie wasn’t like himself, his cheeks sunken, his eyes were dark, and his skin? Almost as pale as Jughead’s.   
“Jug.” Archie said, his voice desperate. Jughead watched him comes close to the glass. Archie’s body was just as sunken as his face. He was thin, not as he used to be built.  
“What have they done to you in here? You look terrible.” Jughead told him, and Archie sat back on the dark box in the room.  
“Prison food is absolutely vile, you know.” Archie explained. Jughead could barely stand to hear his voice, as it was terribly sad, broken. It reminded him of his own.  
They were both in terribly vulnerable spots, but Archie, he found to be far worse off, and his own problems were miniscule.  
“Do you know if you’ll be able to get out?” Jughead asked. Archie shrugged.  
“I don’t know, it’s already been too long. Jug, please. I need you to try.” Archie begged, he was desperate and it seemed to drill a hole into Jughead. He couldn’t stand to see Archie like this. He walked closer to the glass, tears stung his eyes.  
“I can try as best I can. I can’t promise anything, but I can try.” Jughead said, his voice desperate.   
“I miss you, what we had. I can’t keep being alone for something I never did.” Archie told him and Jughead placed his hand upon the glass, and Archie’s hand met his.   
“I’ll get you out Arch, I promise.” Jughead said, the tears fell, and he lost the ability to form words. The deputy put his arms around Jughead and pulled him out of the room and into the main room. He was met with FP and Betty when he got there. They helped get him out of the office and into the car.   
“How is he?” FP asked and Jughead sighed. The sight came back to Jughead, the way Archie’s body was almost as his own. Broken, pale, and half-dead.  
“Terrible. He’s absolutely in a terrible place and I’m not sure what to do...dad, we need to get him out. Bust him out, I don’t care.” Jughead said. He was brash, bold, and willing to do anything. He couldn’t bare to see Archie in such a state.  
“Jughead, I know. I know it’s bad. We can pull some strings, but please, keep yourself out of it for now, I won’t let them take you, or...try and kill you again.” FP shouted, hoping to calm Jughead, as they drove in Alice’s station wagon, with Betty, who was freshly licensed, at the wheel.   
Back at the trailer, Jughead was working on homework, hoping to forget the image for at least a bit, as finals were still upon him. FP was willing to bust Archie out, and some Serpents offered to help. It amazed Jughead, how many were against Hiram, enough to help bust someone who had attacked them just months earlier. FP told Jughead not to worry over the plan, and that he’d know what to do when it was time.  
Jughead wasn’t sure how it would all go, but it seemed this massive weight was lifted off of him.  
Yet his body, it still rejected food, unable to eat and keep it down.  
Tuesday was the first day of finals, second to last week of school, and T-minus 2 weeks before they busted Archie out of jail. Veronica was even willing to help, which he found sort of crazy. He awoke on the couch with calm light coming through the window. He was clothed, which was probably for the better. Waking up almost naked in the living room is far more embarrassing than the bedroom. He went into the kitchen to make the dry cereal, just as he always did. He started to eat more cereal, as he realized it’s what his body kept down. It wasn’t healthy, and he knew that, but it was better than nothing at all.   
He finished the bowl and went to brush his rotting teeth and thinning hair. He looked terrible, and the visit with Archie had left him far more shaken than usual. He pulled his backpack on his back and biked to school, hoping he was prepped enough for English and his world history final.  
He walked into the door and was met with Betty, who seemed just as stressed, probably from her own situations. It seemed she was still completely bothered by her dad, and what he did.   
“How are you? You know, from yesterday?” Betty asked and Jughead shrugged.  
“Dad’s letting some Serpents help, but we’re doing this, busting him out. It’s all we can do.” He told her. His voice was terribly unsure, and he knew it was. He wasn’t sure how it’d work, or if his dad would face consequences again, but it seemed things always worked out somehow.  
“I can help, if you need.” She offered and Jughead cracked a smile at the gesture.  
“I’ll let you know, we’re waiting until school’s out, so Veronica and everyone else can help distract those who need it.” Jughead explained and they got to the lounge. It wasn’t chaos, not today. Everyone could only think of studying, and Jughead was the same. He had lost so much of his progress in school to the illness, but if he did well, he could redeem himself.  
The bell rang and he had his first final, which was an essay, and he didn’t do terribly. The second period was a study period, then the third, a final, and fourth, he slept. He was still exhausted, and unable to eat. It was earned for sure. He heard the final bell of the day and got up to leave.  
The halls were calm, at least for a bit, until a fight broke between a couple kids he never met.  
Somehow there were always fights for such a small high school.  
He walked past to meet again with Betty. They walked out the front door and sat on the steps, waiting the rest, so they could go visit the lake, just to get their minds off of the last year.   
“How’d your first finals go?” Betty asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“Fine, I didn’t bomb them, so that’s pretty great.” He explained. It was almost as if things were normal, at least for a second.   
They were just kids in high school, hoping to pass.   
But his life had become anything but normal. His boyfriend in jail, he couldn’t eat without puking, and one man is trying to destroy the entire town.  
But it was almost normal at the moment.  
almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy  
> I'm updating somewhat regularly again  
> But I'm still having writer's block on the book I'm writing  
> so I may try n write a new Star Wars fic as well  
> but idk yet  
> it may become inconsistent again


	30. Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day prior to the prison break.

Normalcy didn’t last. About three days after the lake, it was all back to what Jughead had accepted as his normal. Hiram was back at it, trying to destroy Veronica’s life. Everyone else had caught on, and somehow Alice even let Veronica stay with them, mainly for safety. Hiram was showing his true colors at this point. His true, absolutely vile self. Jughead was still awaiting his dream of puking on Hiram’s disgustingly expensive shoes, and maybe even his suit.  
The plan, it seemed almost ready, and even easier than usual. Minetta seemed to never be around at all, especially at two or three in the morning. No one seemed to be around. Jughead assumed it was probably just them hiding out at Hiram’s, as usual. It did make the job easier. It was what they would do afterwards that terrified him. He would have to hide Archie in the trailer, as he couldn’t be home, and maybe even the trailer was a terrible idea, but it was the least likely, so it would have to work.  
Three months in that trailer, unable to leave, Jughead felt terrible that it’s how Archie would have to spend his summer trapped, but it would be better than having to go back.  
Jughead was just as bad as he had been weeks ago. He even started to binge and purge again, instead of just not eating. If he was going to keep nothing down, he thought he might as well enjoy it.  
Jughead looked up from the toilet. He could feel puke residue dribble from his chin. It wasn't a good feeling, kind of gross. He flushed the toilet and walked back out to the sink. His throat burned, but that was just usual. He promised he’d start recovering again once Archie was out, as he couldn’t think at the moment. Nothing made sense to him, why it seemed the moment things seemed ok, they fall again.   
He washed his mouth out and took a deep breath. It was just like it used to be, but not in secrecy. That was long gone.  
He walked back to class, where nothing was happening at all. It was between exam periods, and organized chaos ensued in the classroom. He expected nothing less from the second to last day of school. Everyone was exhausted, beat, and ready for a break.  
Jughead was the same, but it loomed, the plan. He wasn’t sure it would work. It was terrifying. If Archie were caught, he’d be gone.  
He spent some time writing, before he realized he should probably study for his Algebra II final, as he was taking both in the same year. He was desperate to get those out of the way, as it didn’t interest him. He pulled out his textbook and made sure he knew what was happening.  
He cursed himself for falling so far behind.  
His last final seemed to rile some anxiety in him, but not too much. It was just the final. During the final it seemed that he could barely keep concentration, but he attempted to keep his head towards the final. It was something he promised his dad, and one of the only promises he wanted to keep.   
He cursed himself for puking so close to it.   
Eventually he finished, and it wasn't terrible. Imaginary numbers were fine, even i to the 78th power. -1. The limit as x approaches infinity. 0. If the bottom was infinitely too large. Then nothing would come of it. The denominator was as his life was. Everything was terribly huge. His disorder. Archie. Hiram.   
Yet he was small and as his life grew bigger, he grew smaller. It was only when the denominator stopped growing exponentially, would he find recovery and solace in recovery.   
After the day was over he stayed on the steps with Betty. The one person who seemed to understand his predicament.   
“How did your finals go?” She asked. He shrugged it was all ok, nothing was terrible, but not great either.   
“I didn't flunk anything. It's pretty decent.” He said. He couldn't help but feel proud.   
“What are you planning on doing once the year is over?” Betty asked and Jughead shrugged.  
“Hiding Archie from the wrath of Hiram most likely, or at least until he’s on trial.” Jughead explained.   
“Where would he go?” Betty asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“The trailer is too obvious, so is your place. It’d have to be Kevin’s or Cheryl’s probably. Sheriff Keller might be able to help.” Jughead explained.  
“He resigned, you know that.” Betty said, and Jughead nodded.  
“I know, but I mean he probably knows stuff we don’t.” Jughead reasoned.   
“True, are you going tomorrow night?” Betty asked. Her voice was full of concern, and Jughead nodded. He could feel his heart skip a beat as he did. It was terrifying, what he was about to do. He knew it could kill him, destroy his life, if he was caught.   
“Yeah, and with it, I get to puke on Hiram’s shoes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Jughead told her, and she let out a chuckle.  
“I think that’ll probably be a solid way to distract him. Will you try n make it an accident or just go for it.” She asked, and Jughead shrugged.  
“It’d be better if it were purely on purpose, I presume.” Jughead said. He wanted to make it as petty as he could, mainly just to piss Hiram off. It was just revenge for trying to kill him. He waited for a couple minutes before deciding to go back home. His dad would be home, stressed, but he’d be home.  
Jughead biked his way back and walked through the door to his trailer. Food was on the table and his dad was pacing, probably just as stressed as everyone else. Jughead threw his bag to the left, where all the shoes were.   
“How’d your Algebra final go?” FP asked and Jughead shrugged.  
“Fine, I didn’t fail, which is pretty cool.” Jughead told him and sat at the table.  
“Ok, so I asked Keller if he’d be willing to take Archie in, and he agreed...surprisingly. When Archie runs out, you take him on your bike, as fast as you can to Keller’s.” FP told Jughead, who could feel the stress points begin to build. It was causing the urges to build again.  
“Got it, and I’m still puking on Hiram’s shoes.” Jughead said. FP’s face was clearly full of disapproval, but he nodded.  
“It’s probably the only thing that’ll distract him enough, but me? I hate it.” FP told him.  
“Great, all I need is some revenge from his attempt to kill me.” Jughead explained.  
“Alright, you. Eat. I’m heading out.” FP told him, and Jughead sighed. His mind twisted it into binging and purging. He couldn’t shake it, so once FP left, he gathered food and went into the living room to stuff it all down. He used the TV to distract him, but it was all the same. The pain that slowly began to hit, and how it seemed to build. It wasn’t any different from the first time. It didn’t help that he had lost weight again.   
It was far too familiar.  
He finished somewhat quickly, and walked into the bathroom. He went and leaned over the toilet, shoved his fingers down his throat and everything came up. The bitter taste seemed to linger, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. It was painful, but it always was. Mainly just a bit of a sting from the acid. It only burned sometimes.  
He wasn’t sure what he was feeling anymore.  
He was numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I got all math-nerd on you, I jus like math, mainly calc, but math.  
> Also I'm considering finishing this pretty soon and waiting until season 3 comes out.  
> Then write a sequel from there.  
> Comment what you think


	31. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prison break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait between chapters.  
> I'm in circus school rn and have no time for anything at all.  
> Also new season of Riverdale is airing now ahh.

The day, it had arrived, and Jughead could tell his mind was racing, he feared what would happen, if he was even able to move at all. His chest seemed to weigh his body down, and he was almost unable to move at all. It hurt, the slightest movement hurt. He wasn’t sure if he should do such a thing. He had done illegal things before, but this...insane. The only thing that seemed to keep him from falling back asleep for the fifth time that day was the fact that in just a few hours he’d be puking on Hiram’s shoes, whether it be from the station or at the Pembrooke. He knew the satisfaction would be worth it, even if Hiram sent Penny after him again. He survived it all once, his body could do so again.  
Jughead heard his phone vibrate from across the room, in the charging plug. He raised his head off of the pillow and sighed. He could feel the effects of the last nap in his body. He was also terribly hungry, but that was totally normal. He was so used to it, waking up hungry.  
Jughead pushed himself up off of the couch, slowly, and walked over to his phone. His heart seemed to stop when he saw it was his dad that was calling. He looked at the clock, in disbelief that it was already 11 pm. He went to pick the phone up.  
“Dad?” He asked.  
“I’m heading over, boy, be there in an hour, then be ready to escape as fast as you came in. If they figure out it was us, I’ll take the blame.” FP said, and then swiftly hung up the phone.  
He called Veronica, who was in on the plan, letting her know, and asking about Hiram.  
“Jughead?” She asked, confused. He could feel his heart race.  
“It’s time, where’s your dad?” Jughead asked, and he heard a sharp breath, and then a locking of a door.  
“At home, in his study, but I can lure him out once you get there, just shoot a text.” She said, and then they hung up. Jughead felt a rush of energy he swore he had never felt, at least not in the past few days. He packed his bag with just basic things, and then grabbed his phone, the house key, and his jacket. He locked the house, and got onto his bike.  
He knew this was the craziest thing he’d done.  
It took him a bit to get over to the Pembrooke, but he had planned it all before. It would all work in time.   
He hoped.  
Jughead arrived at the Pembrooke ten minutes after leaving his trailer, and texted Veronica. He waited a second, making sure he remained in the darkness. He felt his phone vibrate, which confirmed that Hiram was inside. He made his way to the door, and he heard the familiar voice of Minetta, and then Hiram, but what was said, he couldn’t make out. He rung the doorbell, and Veronica opened it swiftly, completely ready.  
“In the kitchen, most of the police force is with them, but we have to get a way in there.” She whispered. He nodded.  
“Studying, and in for a snack?” He suggested. She quickly nodded. They went upstairs, and spent a few minutes in silence, before they broke.  
“This is the last time I ever want to see you puking.” Veronica told him, and he reluctantly nodded.  
“I know, I know. I promised my dad the same thing.” He told her. His heart began to race just the slightest bit. He was crazy, absolutely crazy for even considering to do this, but it was all he wanted to do, to get revenge in such a strange way.   
With Veronica trailing behind him, he walked into the dining room, where he found Hermione, who seemed far too distraught to even acknowledge him. She only looked up once Veronica walked into the room.   
“Where’s dad?” She asked. Her voice shaky.  
“In his study, but he’s terribly busy. He always is.” Hermione said, but her voice, unconvincing. Veronica took Jughead by the hand and they walked to the office, where she knocked on the door.  
“Dad?” She asked, to let him know that yes, she was asking for something. It took him a bit to get over how she bought Pop’s, and she knew he was why Archie was away. She knew it would be dangerous, to bring Jughead, whom he had almost killed. Secondhandly. Penny had almost killed him.  
The door opened, and as quickly as Hiram walked out, Jughead had already let himself wretch, and the timing seemed perfect, as he ended up puking straight onto not only Hiram’s shoes, but the cuffs of his pants as well. His filthy, expensive pants.   
He ran, quickly, making sure everything was solid.  
If he stayed, Hiram would go after him, and far too quickly.  
He mounted his bike swiftly, and then rode his way to the station, where Archie was still kept. His heart was now racing, nothing crossed his mind, but the skin of his red-haired lover. He quickly pulled to the back, and it seemed almost too perfectly in time. He found Archie, in his boxers, hidden in bushes. There was a moment, swift, fleeting. The skin of his lover, not as soft as it once was. Sunken, pale, thin. It broke him. He could feel his own desire, a slight bit of lust for his lover.  
He shook it off, it was no time for such a thing now.  
“Get, now.” Jughead whispered violently, and so Archie mounted, only his hair seemed visible in the dark of the night.   
They biked off, and as fast as Jughead could, they made it to Kevin’s house. The light was on, to notify them that it was ok, that someone was awake.   
Jughead threw a rock at the window, and hid Archie under a hoodie he had worn, they snuck to the back, and climbed through an open window. Jughead got Archie through first, and then himself, quickly closing it, and the blinds. He looked up, his breath still heavy, out of control. He grabbed Archie’s skin, and pulled him close. His touch-starved body seemed to find energy again, at least the slightest bit. He could feel the red-head boy sink into his arms. Both of them were broken, but it seemed none were bothered by it.  
“We’ve made it. Your mom’s put in an appeal, the majority of Riverdale is fighting for you. Just hang tight here, at least for now.” Jughead whispered, and Archie, who had barely spoken in all of the three months locked up. Jughead noticed the tears running down Archie’s face, and then his own.  
Relief, tears of pure relief.  
A sound startled the both of them. Footsteps from the level above. Jughead sat Archie down, and waited for either Kevin, or Keller to be down. His hand was braced against Archie’s, who was shaking terribly. It shattered Jughead’s heart to see how much had changed in just a bit of time. A painful bit of time.  
“How’d it go?” Keller asked, as he walked down. Jughead looked up.  
“He’s not clothed, cold, and terrified, but he’s safe, and you know how to do this far better than I do.” Jughead said, and helped Archie up.  
“Best I can do tonight is show him his place. It’s too late for much else, unless you’re willing to stay.” Keller said, and Jughead nodded.  
“I’m willing, I slept most of the day anyway.” He said, and they followed Keller into the basement, and saw a corner, opposite of the home gym. It was nook, a nice nook. Posters, an old mattress on the floor. The basement seemed so much cleaner than it ever had before. Lights, some old books. He even made sure it was near a wall outlet. Jughead knew that Archie’s laptop and phone were at his place. He knew his task in the morning was to bring clothes, and other comforts, especially Archie’s guitar, but tonight was about food and sleep.   
“I hope it’s to your liking, Kevin did most of it; I just cleaned the area.” Keller explained.   
“Thank you.” Archie choked out, and he sat on the bed, his body seemed to collapse with the action. Jughead sat beside him.  
“Are you turning in?” Jughead asked. He knew Archie was probably hungry, and thirsty. Both, but it seemed sleep was more important.  
“I barely got to sleep, it’s ok. I’ll eat in the morning.” Archie said, and then pulled Jughead to the bed. The two curled into one another. Jughead softly pecked Archie’s forehead, and then seemed to drift off swiiftly.  
The touch of his lover’s arms felt so warm, so familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I need opinions.  
> Should I end this story, and write either a different one, same one, or new one  
> Using the sameish concept, but the events of season three instead?  
> Or continue this one? Even tho it's literally become a novel  
> Idk what to do yo

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I want to continue this, so if you want me to  
> then comment below  
> I don't know where this is going yet tbh


End file.
